


come home to my heart

by sooblushes



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Banshee Byun Baekhyun, Domestic Fluff, Harassment, Hurt/Comfort, Kyungsoo Needs a Hug, M/M, Making A Home, Plants, Romance, Werewolf Zhang Yixing, Zombie Do Kyungsoo, mentions of prejudice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:41:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22517176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sooblushes/pseuds/sooblushes
Summary: When Kyungsoo's apartment is destroyed by his neighbours with an anti-zombie agenda, he has no choice but to move to the outskirts of Seoul. The last thing he expects is to fall in love with the human he hires to help renovate his home.
Relationships: Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 57
Kudos: 400
Collections: Mythsoological Fic Fest





	come home to my heart

**Author's Note:**

> This was a self-prompt for the Mythsoological Fic Fest! I wanted to write about home-making with ChanSoo and this is what came out of it...I hope I was able to portray their relationship with some fondness! 
> 
> Kyungsoo was partially inspired by the worldbuilding of _In the Flesh_ , which is a gay zombie tv show that I recommend checking out! If you're familiar with it, you'll see aspects of it in this fic. 
> 
> Lastly, thank you so much to the mods for their kindness. I received some real support through the fest and I am so grateful! I also want to thank Tsukki and Pengu who have listened to me rant about this fic since the summer and have patiently held my hand through all the troubles I had with getting it finished! Both of them offer me so much love, and I hope they know that they are such precious people to me!

THE UNNATURAL HAVE NO PLACE HERE. GO HOME, ROTTER.

Kyungsoo stares at the thick, bold letters spray-painted onto his bathroom mirror, the paint still fresh enough to be running down the reflective surface like oozing ink. Toiletries are strewn across the floor, bottles of skincare busted open and leaking on the tile. His makeup had received the brunt of the attack. His foundation has been squeezed out of the tube and smeared across the counters and the sink, his contact lens ripped into pieces. The blush has been gouged out, as well as his liptint. 

The rest of his apartment, Kyungsoo knows, is no different. 

“ _Jesus_ ,” Baekhyun gasps from behind him, voice tense and full of rage. His best friend had been checking through the rest of the place for any danger, sparing Kyungsoo of the heartache of seeing his home destroyed into pieces. “How could they do this to you?”

In his kitchen and his bedroom, he knows that his plants have been smashed. Dirt smeared on the ground, the leaves scattered throughout the flat. There are footsteps tracked through the soil throughout his apartment, but Kyungsoo knows reporting this as a hate crime would get him nowhere.

It certainly didn’t help the past two times Kyungsoo’s apartment has been graffiti’d or egged—violated in some way. But it was the first time anyone had ever broken in, had ever set out with the intention to ruin the safety of his home. 

Kyungsoo breathes out. His throat feels tight, and there’s a stinging prickle behind his eyes. He breathes in. Out. His body feels heavy, but weightless at the same time, like there’s nothing tethering him to this earth. 

Above all, he feels exhausted.

“I think it’s time for me to move out,” Kyungsoo says at last, quietly and full of resignation. Slowly, he turns to face Baekhyun. There’s a broken look on the other man’s face, and Kyungsoo feels a tremble in his body at the sight of it. With another deep breath in, he tries to compose himself.

His friend had only decided to follow Kyungsoo to his apartment after their lunch date because he had wanted to borrow his HDMI cable, but now he feels as equally glad that he isn’t alone right now, as much as he feels guilt that Baekhyun now has to deal with this too. 

Baekhyun takes a step forward, one hand grasping at Kyungsoo’s desperately. “I’m sorry, Kyungsoo,” he says. Worry swims in his eyes. “I’m sorry, I know you liked it here.”

Kyungsoo takes another look around the bathroom, its trashed state and the bleeding, dark letters scrawled on the mirror. He sees himself, his reflection under the words that scorn his existence. He sees the way his skin is still unnaturally pale, even with the foundation on, and the way his liptint had faded slightly from eating earlier to reveal blanched lips. He sees the unnatural state of himself. 

He flinches.

“Me too,” Kyungsoo says. He turns back to Baekhyun. “I’m sorry too.”  


* * *

  
Kyungsoo had always wanted to move to Seoul. The glitz and glamour of the big city was attractive to him, as was the promised diversity of its people. There were high-elves on television as news announcers, goblins working as PDs, actors who were rumoured to be werewolves. Growing up, there was even a famous idol under SM Entertainment who came out to be a vampire—one of the Unnatural. 

Admittedly, vampires were well-respected _in spite of_ their status as an Unnatural. Their representation in media and history always painted them as powerful, beautiful, and strong. They were considered one of the more ancient species, like the elves and fairies, and were able to command more privilege within society. And while Kyungsoo had always tried hard not to consider himself as unlucky when it came to the genetic lottery, it was difficult to avoid that train of thought as an Unnatural that _isn’t_ a vampire. 

A few centuries ago, a viral agent left certain groups of humans in a fugue-like state; they were rabid, blood-hungry, and nearly berserk. A cure was thankfully found, and once administered to those who had been infected, were able to return to full consciousness. Not all symptoms had been erased, leaving them with unnaturally pale complexions and iris-less pupils, but in all essence of the word, they were—alive. Human, in most ways, albeit stronger than average. 

Those who were originally infected had continued to form families. A few generations later, it became evident that these symptoms had evolved to become a genetic mutation. 

Colloquially, they became known as zombies. Despite being fully alive, mostly human, their appearance and historical origins were aligned too closely to the rest of the Unnatural—ghouls, wraithes, poltergeists, banshees, vampires. Species associated with death, with bad omens, with terror. 

As with all species in the bottom rung of the hierarchical pyramid—those that boasted little powers or magic, those that haven’t been entrenched in longstanding history, those who were seen as primordial—most of the Unnatural were slotted into the pits of society. 

Kyungsoo had heard stories while growing up of grassroots movements advocating for the rights of the Unnatural, and community groups for people like him. There were news stories about zombie advocacy organizations that refused to wear makeup and contacts to hide the tell-tale traits that gave away their species, that spoke against the discrimination that they faced and demanded for better treatment. 

When Baekhyun, his best friend from childhood _and_ another Unnatural—a banshee—had moved to Seoul just shortly after turning 22, Kyungsoo felt even more torn about moving to a sort-of promise land, and moving away from his family where it was _safe_. But when Baekhyun began weaving stories about all the amazing people he had met, including his current boyfriend, Kyungsoo knew his heart was wavering. 

At the age of 27, he packed his bags and left. It seemed like the right timing; everything had fallen into place—he found a cute apartment only a few train stops away from Baekhyun’s place, a position at one of the largest hospitals in Seoul as a pharmacy technician, and a local shop near his new apartment that delivered his favourite brand of soil for his plants.

Baekhyun had been thrilled. Kyungsoo had been tentatively excited.

Still, Kyungsoo let himself take baby steps into this scary new world. He kept his makeup and contacts on—and in fact, it was demanded as part of uniform regulations at the hospital—and while he looked up the local zombie community groups, he hadn’t gathered the courage to reach out yet.

The apartment was as perfect as it had looked in the listing. It was small and quaint, consisting really of a kitchen, one tiny bedroom, and a bath. But the kitchen had large, bright windows that let in streams of light during the daytime and was perfect for Kyungsoo to set up his plants to soak up the sunshine. There was even an oven that had been left unused by the previous tenant, and Kyungsoo hadn’t hesitated before testing it out with a batch of gooey, chewy chocolate cookies.

It would be a treat for his neighbours, Kyungsoo had decided, a twine of anxiety and excitement tangled around his heart as he had mixed the dry ingredients in a bowl. To say hello, introduce himself as their new neighbour, and to get to know them. Get off on the right foot.

When Kyungsoo had returned back to his apartment after work, the cookies he had given to his neighbours were left in a crumble on his doorstep, the chocolate melted and smeared against his door. A note had been left behind. 

He had picked it up with shaky fingers, a dawning sense of sadness settling in him as he read the note. 

_No rotters allowed._  


* * *

  
“Why don’t you just move in with me for the time being, Kyungsoo?” Baekhyun asks, snatching Kyungsoo’s napkin to wipe the bread crumbs off his face. Kyungsoo lets out a customary protest, but it’s half-hearted at best, his attention focused on the computer screen in front of him. 

Baekhyun sighs, jokingly exasperated, and tries again. “Really, I don’t mind. It’s a one bedroom, but I don’t mind sharing my bed with you. You’re small enough, it’ll be like I’m sleeping alone anyway.”

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, refusing to rise to the bait. He knows it’s Baekhyun’s attempt to lighten up how poorly apartment-hunting has been going, and it appreciates it well enough. “And what about when Yixing comes over? Don’t think he’d appreciate a third person in bed with you guys,” he asks sardonically, taking another bite of the Hokkaido milk rolls he had stress-baked that afternoon.

They’re sitting together as Kyungsoo combs through more apartment listings, at the small, scratched-up wooden dining table that Baekhyun had picked up in a garage sale during the summer. Somehow it fits in with the rest of Baekhyun’s apartment, which is cluttered with a toy collection and random bits and bobs that Yixing, his boyfriend, has left behind from all the times he’s stayed over. But Kyungsoo had always thought that Baekhyun was amazing at piecing together parts that don’t fit—himself included.

Baekhyun throws his hands up in the air, dramatic as always. The table wobbles. ”If I want you to be the third person in our bed, then Yixing will just have to deal with it!” he announces. Then he pauses. “But like, I mean that platonically. I wouldn’t sleep with you. I think.” Baekhyun wrinkles his nose. “Maybe?”

Kyungsoo can’t help the snort of laughter that escapes through him. “Shut up,” he says, shaking his head fondly. “Don’t let Yixing hear you. He might think you’re planning a threesome.” 

“For you, Kyungsoo, the light of my life, the burning in my loins—” he pauses dramatically, hand held over his heart. “—anything.” 

“Burning in your loins? Might want to get that checked out, Baekhyunnie.”

Baekhyun waves a hand dismissively. “Nevermind that,” he says. Suddenly, he straightens up, a more serious look settling on his face. “Really, Kyungsoo, you’re welcome to stay with me so that we can get you out of that apartment as soon as possible. And then you can take your time looking for a new place. We’ll make it work. Yixing wont mind.” 

Warmth washes over Kyungsoo, the affection in Baekhyun’s voice squeezing his heart. The look of determination on his best friend’s face is like a salve on the hurt he’s been carrying since his apartment was desecrated. Since he’s moved here and it was made clear that he was unwanted. “Thanks, Baekhyunnie,” he says. It feels like there’s something lodged in his throat, and he swallows around it, abruptly overwhelmed by how grateful he feels for the banshee. 

He knew it wouldn’t be easy, but his search for a new place is going even worse than he had imagined. As soon as the landlords find out about his species, the doors both metaphorically and literally closed on him. It left Baekhyun fuming, and Kyungsoo increasingly resigned.

But it was moments like these, where his best friend rallies so strongly behind him, that Kyungsoo feels he can continue on. He honestly doesn’t know where he’d be if it weren’t for Baekhyun’s unwavering support.

Baekhyun must be able to sense it, because he smiles and his face softens. He takes another big bite out of the milk roll. “Besides, that just means I can bribe you in baking more treats for me. Nothing with chocolate though,” he says, a considering look on his face. “Yixing’s tummy would get upset.”  


* * *

  
In the end, Kyungsoo doesn’t need to impose on Baekhyun—and Yixing, by association—after all. 

“I don’t know about this one,” Baekhyun says doubtfully, staring up at the old house in front of them. Yixing nods in agreement from beside him. 

The shingles of the roof are crumbled and cracked, the house is covered in a mossy exterior that spoke to the neglect over a long period of time. There were spider webs stretching across the door that Kyungsoo had to bat down while Baekhyun shrieked—not a banshee shriek, thankfully—behind him. The inside isn’t much better. There is a nest of pigeons inside the upper floor hallway, and the walls of the living room and kitchen contains serious water damage. 

The whole building doesn’t seem structurally sound, but the real estate agent had promised Kyungsoo that it mostly just needed minor aesthetic touch-ups.

The same real estate agent—a kobold, if his petit stature was of any indication—smiles patiently as the three of them continue to survey the dilapidated house. “I promise you, Mr. Byun, that there is no need to worry. The house requires a little bit of—how do you say—TLC, but I have no doubts that Mr. Do here is more than equipped to provide that. Maybe a few renovations here and there, but then it’ll be just as good as new!” 

Baekhyun doesn’t look convinced. “Then why is the selling price so low if it wouldn’t be too difficult to renovate it? For a single home so close to _Seoul_?”

“It is still an older home in the end, Mr. Byun. In addition, its location is far enough in the outskirts from the metropolitan that it has not been popular for young buyers like you,” the kobold explains patiently, the smile not wavering in the slightest. “But it has the charm of a once well-lived home and the surrounding greenery and coastal air is a beautiful respite from the overwhelming nature of the city. Don’t you agree, Mr. Do?”

Kyungsoo nods. “I can see your point,” he says slowly, thinking over the agent’s words. It’s true, the house is located on the furthest outskirts of the Seoul Capital Area that it could hardly be considered a prime location, especially not when most of the satellite cities had experienced enough urban growth that commuting into Seoul is hardly an issue nowadays. The isolation of this plot of land is slightly surprising.

The closest bus stop is a 20-minute walk if Kyungsoo speedwalks, and it would still take him multiple transfers and at least an hour and a half of commuting before getting him to the hospital. Driving would be easier, though perhaps not during rush hour, but Kyungsoo doesn’t have his own car. 

“Kyungsoo, you don’t know a single thing about home repair,” Baekhyun points out. “Where are we even going to start with this? How long will it take before it’s even _livable_ so that you can move in?” 

The real estate agent cuts in again. “No worries, I can promise that the bedroom is perfectly livable and should cause no issues for you to move in immediately if you’d like to renovate sections of your home at a time,” he explains placidly.

Kyungsoo nods again. It isn’t ideal, but he’s glad to know that he could at least stay in the house while fixing it up. 

His best friend, however, is not so easily pleased. “ _Sections_?” Baekhyun repeats, outraged. “Kyungsoo, we can find another place that’s closer to the city, closer to _us_ , and requires less maintenance work. Where would we even start with renovations? We don’t know anything about it.”

“I know a guy,” Yixing says suddenly, speaking up for the first time. Baekhyun squawks in protest at his boyfriend, but Yixing only dimples serenely at the two of them. Kyungsoo has always thought he must be the most peaceful werewolf he has ever met. “He owns his own renovation company and he’s amazing at his job. He’s a good guy,” he adds. 

Kyungsoo thinks it over, studying the house in front of him once more. It’s in rough shape, both inside and outside, but it isn’t _that_ bad. While it’s clearly a derelict and long-abandoned home, and Kyungsoo isn’t surprised that the agent seems desperate to sell it to him given how neglected it has been, it has been an uphill battle to find anyone who is willing to even speak to a zombie. Let alone selling one a home. 

It’s a fixer-upper for sure, but the bedroom did seem mostly livable for the most part. And even more importantly—and Kyungsoo knows this is partly why he’s so reluctant to walk away—it has a small solarium at the back of the house; barely recognizable with how battered and decrepit the room was. The glass windows were so dirty that light couldn’t even stream through them, and parts of the wall had been crumbling off and looked seconds away from collapsing.

But then Kyungsoo thinks about the amount of plants he could care for in that space, and how they would thrive once he cleaned it up a bit, and he...he wants it. Even if it will be a nightmare-and-a-half trying to renovate the whole place. Alone—because he’s tired of being around those who have never met a zombie before. Tired of anticipating how they’ll treat him when they find out. Tired, in general. 

“No,” Kyungsoo says, shaking his head. “Thanks Yixing, but I can do this. It just needs a bit of DIY repair work,” he says, shrugging the doubt from his shoulders before setting them back resolutely. He turns towards the real estate agent. “I’ll take it. I’ll sign the papers.”

“Kyungsoo!” Baekhyun exclaims, pulling away from Yixing’s arm, which was wrapped around his waist, and tugging Kyungsoo to the side by his arm. “What are you saying—this entire place is a hazard! Seriously, this guy’s just selling it to you because he knows it’s unsellable otherwise.” He rudely waves an arm in the agent’s direction, who shows no reaction to Baekhyun’s words. 

But Kyungsoo only shakes his head, determined. “I know, but Baekhyun—no one even wants to _rent_ to me once they see my papers. I can make this work. I have to.” 

Baekhyun studies him for a moment, lowering his head a bit to make up for their small height difference. Finally, he sighs, and releases Kyungsoo’s arm. “At least tell me you’ll get help from us, and from Yixing’s friend,” he says resignedly. Yixing nods eagerly, coming up to pat Kyungsoo on the back.

A small smile curls at the corner of Kyungsoo’s lips, fond and grateful for his friends’ concerns. “I’m strong, remember? I’ll be fine.” He’s tempted to lift an arm up as if to prove his point, but he knows he just looks pale and soft and small, despite being stronger than the average being because of his species. Baekhyun frowns, but says nothing else. 

“Wonderful,” the kobold says in the same placid tone, smile still unwavering. “I have them here with me, if you’re ready.”  


* * *

  
Kyungsoo moves in exactly two weeks later. 

All the while, Baekhyun had tried to dissuade him even as he and Yixing helped Kyungsoo pack everything into boxes. But Kyungsoo was determined. He didn’t just want to make it work—he needed it to. 

Thankfully, the two weeks passed by without any significant incidence. More notes were left in the jamb of his door decrying “rotters,” but no further vandalizations and break-ins. Still, it was with as much of a heavy heart as it was with a sigh of relief when Kyungsoo turned back and realized he would never step foot through that door ever again. 

After a full day of unloading boxes into his new place—mostly into the living room and some into his new bedroom, Baekhyun and Yixing had finally left, though not without trying to convince Kyungsoo to at least stay over at his apartment while they started cleaning the house up. 

But Kyungsoo was nothing but stubborn and had insisted on staying. He refused to be a burden on his friends any longer. 

Now, he is standing in the foyer, studying the interior of the house—his _home_. The world felt weird to him, jagged and foreign. His shoes are still on, the wooden floorboards smeared with dirt and dust, cracked and chipped, and some are even loose. Yixing had nearly tripped over one earlier, if it weren’t for his quick werewolf reflexes catching him before he fell over. 

A slew of boxes left packed are stacked up against the walls they had deemed the most structurally sound, and even more could be found in his bedroom, the only other room in the house that seemed safe. Many of the rooms had debris littered across the cracked and broken flooring, walls just as damaged, and windows broken. Yixing had attacked his washroom and bedroom with a mop and cleaned it up to the best of his ability earlier, but the general state of the house still left a lot to be desired.

Thankfully, the nest of pigeons had been removed. It was the only stipulation Kyungsoo had when he purchased the old house.

Back at his old apartment, the hum and energy of a busy city had surrounded him. The soundproofing wasn’t perfect, and he could often hear the stomping footsteps of his upstairs neighbour. Now, the silence seemingly surrounds him. It weighs heavy and full, and very abruptly, Kyungsoo is hit with the gnawing feeling of loneliness.

He’s alone out here, in this isolated, broken house. What felt manageable when he signed the papers now feels horrifying daunting. 

With a sigh, he finally moves from his spot in the foyer and heads back upstairs to the washroom. He bats away the cobwebs hanging on the corner of the last step. Exhaustion seeps into his bones, and for a moment, it’s all he has in him to be glad that at least he has running water. 

Kyungsoo forces his thoughts to the back of his mind, instead focusing on taking the dark brown contacts out and cleaning them in solution. He avoids looking at his reflection, without much difficulty due to his nearsighted prescription, and gently oil cleanses the foundation off his face. Once both the oil cleanser and foam cleanser are washed off his face, he pats himself dry with a soft towel. 

All of his skincare had been left in an opened box in one corner of his room, and he continues the rest of his skincare routine there. He leaves his shoes on, reluctant to risk walking barefoot on the floor. 

It feels like hours has passed by the time he’s finished getting ready for bed, and his body feels weighted, like it’s yearning to just rest. There’s still so much to do with the house, but Kyungsoo ignores it. There’s no point pushing himself beyond the limit, he thinks, climbing into the bed he had brought over with him from the apartment. 

Right before his eyelids flutter shut, he notices the dusty cobwebs in the corner of his room. They must have missed it when they were cleaning the room earlier. Another thing he’ll have to take care of tomorrow.  


* * *

  
_NNG Homes_ , the text message reads. Underneath the company name is a phone number, followed by a third message that says _”His work is great and inexpensive, I promise ^^_.” It had been sent from Yixing into the group chat he has with him and Baekhyun, and Kyungsoo doesn’t doubt for a second that Baekhyun had insisted on Yixing sending him the contact information.

It has only been a few days, and slowly the cobwebs and boxes are clearing up. Not entirely—there just feels like there’s so much he cannot unpack until he fixes the rest of the house up. But he’s unwilling to admit that he’s at a bit of a loss on where to start. Baekhyun hasn’t let up with the idea of Kyungsoo hiring someone to help. Still, he finds himself reluctant to give in.

He’s tired of having to be a burden, of needing to rely on others. 

Without responding to the text, Kyungsoo sighs and stows his phone away, and continues his routine inventory count on the last delivery of drugs to their hospital pharmacy. 

By the time he’s finished work, it’s already ten at night. The sky is dark and inky, and the wind is brisk. Kyungsoo shivers, pulling his jacket tighter around his body, as he heads towards the bus that will take him to the transfer station for his second bus—out of four, in total. 

He tries to nap on each bus, but he feels on edge. The ever-persistent worry that his makeup will smudge enough in his sleep, so that someone could pinpoint him being a zombie, rags at him. And each time his head bobs and his eyelids droop, he shakes himself awake again. Kyungsoo is grateful when he has finally reaches his bus stop and begins his twenty minute walk home.

The dirt path through a thatch of spindly trees has no lamps lighting the way. Kyungsoo, wary of the unpaved road, turns on his cellphone’s flashlight to guide him through the darkness. He tries not to be spooked by the eerie silence that surrounds him, but he’s still hasn’t adjusted to walking this route and has not yet encountered anyone else in his commute to work. 

He startles when he notices a strange shadow far up ahead, right at the base of one of the trees that line the road on the other side of the small forest. It’s the road, mostly taken by truckers, that leads him towards his house. The shadow appears squat and low to the ground. For a moment, Kyungsoo thinks it might be a creature—a raccoon, maybe, or a stray cat—and after coming to a standstill for a few seconds and studying the figure carefully, Kyungsoo gathers the courage to move closer. 

As he nears the shadow, its shape becomes visible. It turns out to be a leafy plant in a cracked clay pot, far too small to contain the plant. Its leaves are drooping and many of them have wilted and brown, wide leaves now crumpled in on itself. Kyungsoo frowns. Someone had clearly neglected the plant. There are a few farmlands nearby this road, and some more isolated homes. Technically they’re his neighbours, but he has never seen them. Kyungsoo assumes this plant was dumped on the side of the road by one of them, though he doesn’t understand why they didn’t at least compost it. 

Despite its dying state, Kyungsoo doesn’t think twice before heaving the plant into his arms, cradling the bottom of the cracked pot carefully in case it falls out. It doesn’t look like it has received the care it should have, and Kyungsoo knows more than anyone of the resiliency of most plants—especially indoor plants. There’s a chance it could be recuperated. 

Baekhyun always makes fun of him for his habit of collecting discarded houseplants from lazy homeowners, but for the first time since he moved in, Kyungsoo feels a glimmer of brightness as he walks the rest of the way to the house. Caring for plants had always been therapeutic for him. Something about the delicacy of nurturing life in them, especially those that have been left forgotten by their owners, was fulfilling for him.

And if he sometimes named them, like one would name their pets or _their children_ —well, Kyungsoo refused to be embarrassed about it. 

When Kyungsoo finally reaches home, he props the plant on his hip while he rummages for his key with the other hand. Once he opens the door, he switches the light on. It takes a few flickers before a dim, yellowish glow lights up the foyer. The half-unpacked boxes and dirty floors are uninviting, and the lights cast a sickly glow upon the neglected state of the house. Still, it’s bright enough that Kyungsoo can now see that the leaves are a dark, inky colour—nearly black, with a tinge of purple. He’ll have to look up what kind of plant it is later.

 _Meokmul_ , Kyungsoo thinks, stroking the topmost leaf with one careful finger, tracing along the brittle leaves. _Ink_. 

He carries the plant— _Meokmul_ —into what used to be the solarium. There’s a noticeable crunch under his shoes when Kyungsoo accidentally steps onto some broken floor tiles, and he flinches, the noise incredibly jarring in the silence of the house. With a wince, he places his new plant down on the ground, right next to his peace lily. 

Kyungsoo takes a step back, dusting his hands off from dirt and clay debris. Immediately, the sense of joy he had felt earlier diminishes as he looks around the solarium. The windows are still dusty and cracked, the tiling marred and stained with dark speckles. Many of them are broken. 

His plants, all nine of them, are laid neatly on the floor, but the sight of them shrouded in darkness makes him feel—sad. The lightbulb is broken, and ever since moving in, Kyungsoo has realized that cleaning the house barely covers a fraction of what is _wrong_ with it.

And he has no idea where to begin with fixing the house. 

All of a sudden, Kyungsoo feels submerged in the entirety of how utterly _unlivable_ it is in the house. He doesn’t feel any more comfortable stepping foot into the space than he did the first day. And if he were to be honest with himself—he _doesn’t_ want to be here.

Kyungsoo looks around the room again, eyes landing on the sorry state of his plants. All he has in this house are his plants—as sad as he is to admit it—and he isn’t even able to take care of them properly while the house is barely suitable for living. 

Something needs to change, Kyungsoo decides. His mind flashes back toward the text Yixing had sent him earlier in the day. _NNG Homes_. 

Hesitation gnaws at him. He needs help, and at this point, Kyungsoo would rather pay for a professional than burden his only two friends in the city with _more_. Not when they’ve already helped so much. 

But maybe he doesn’t have much of a choice. Kyungsoo sets his jaw. He makes his decision. 

If nothing else except for the reason that Kyungsoo refuses to let his plants live in filth and misery.  


* * *

  
Over the phone, the owner of _NNG Homes_ sounded perfectly affable. He had a startlingly deep voice, but it was cheerful and confident, and he assured Kyungsoo that they would set up a consultation first and foremost to accurately gauge what needs to be done. Nothing would be done without Kyungsoo’s approval, _but_ , according to the other man, he was assured that he couldn’t have called a better person for the job. 

Still, as the day of their first appointment dawns upon him, the trepidation only grows.

Kyungsoo is careful when he applies his foundation that morning, blending it evenly with his sponge. He brushes on foundation, taking the time to lightly dab on a coral-toned blush, before carefully applying a neutral liptint. Nothing dramatic. It’s only once he had finished getting ready that he looks in the mirror. With the makeup on, it looks like he has a healthier pallor to his skin. 

If he didn’t know better, he could almost pass as human. 

Distantly, Kyungsoo understands that if this man came as a recommendation from Yixing, then he couldn’t be a bad person. Yixing is well-liked enough, having a social circle reaching far beyond just his pack—none of whom Kyungsoo has ever met—but he would never suggest anyone that would treat Kyungsoo horribly.

Personal experience, however, has taught him to expect the worst outcome, and Kyungsoo isn’t about to risk being discovered to be an Unnatural to a stranger. 

Right at 10:00 AM, the sound of knocking comes at the front door. Kyungsoo jumps, dropping his hand from his mouth where he had been gnawing on his nails anxiously, before padding up to the old wooden door and pulling it open.

Standing on the other side is a tall man. A very tall man, towering over Kyungsoo by at least a head. For a second, Kyungsoo thinks they must have come to the wrong door because his looks are more suited for a _model_ , than a general contractor. His silver hair is artfully styled in tousled waves, dimples flashing at Kyungsoo from the rakish smile on his face. 

“Do Kyungsoo?” says the man. He has a deep voice that betrays the boyish charm on his face. 

Kyungsoo startles. “Yes,” he says, eyes wide at the handsome man. “Are you here from NNG Homes?”

The other man nods, flashing a bright smile at Kyungsoo. “Yep,” he confirms, reaching a hand out for a handshake. “I’m Park Chanyeol, I’m the owner of NNG Homes.”

Kyungsoo automatically reaches back to shake Chanyeol’s hand, self-conscious about how much colder his hand probably is in comparison. Zombies run cold. 

But Chanyeol doesn’t seem to notice, or doesn’t care, only smiling easily at Kyungsoo when he’s finally invited in. There’s no distinguishing features about him—as far as Kyungsoo can tell, at least—that indicates he’s anything but human. Relief settles in Kyungsoo at that realization. Humans aren’t able to tell apart different species, and as long as he has his makeup on, it’s doubtful that Chanyeol would know what he is.

Kyungsoo leads them to the kitchen, which is thankfully no longer dusty but still clearly rundown and unfit for use. He seats them around the round wooden dining table he brought from his previous apartment, and pulls out bottled water with a grimace. 

“Sometimes the electricity is a bit wonky here,” Kyungsoo explains, embarrassed, as he hands the bottle over to Chanyeol. To his credit, the other man only nods without any judgment, and accepts the water. 

When Kyungsoo sits across from him at the table, Chanyeol clears his throat and opens up the notebook. “Today is just the first site visit. Nothing too stressful, I promise—just a discussion of budget, deadlines, must-haves and nice-to-haves, any inspiration photos. Then we can go into a planning phase, and of course, our goal here is to meet _your_ needs, whatever they are.” 

He runs through the spiel smoothly, and rather than feeling put-off by how many times Chanyeol has clearly done this before, Kyungsoo feels comforted by his clear professionalism. He hadn’t realized it until then, but a part of him had felt nervous that anyone coming in would judge him for the state of the house, even though it isn’t his fault. There’s no judgment in Chanyeol’s voice. Instead, there’s a sense of warmth. 

“Where would you like to start, Mr. Do?” Chanyeol asks once he’s done explaining the process of how he works. 

Kyungsoo hesitates, unsure of where to begin. “Well, I know there’s water damage in the walls of the living room and the kitchen.” He waves a hand around him, gesturing at the room they’re in. “A lot of the tiling is broken too. I haven’t been able to take off my shoes,” he explains, feeling ashamed. 

But Chanyeol only nods and jots it down. “When was this house built, do you happen to know?” he asks.

“Around the 1950s?” Kyungsoo said, uncertain. “The real estate agent told me this was one of the homes built shortly after the war.” The house was influenced by American architecture. Given that it was a single-family home and not one of the cheap bedroom communities that were built following the war, he assumed it was originally built and owned by an American soldier that profited from the war. 

Chanyeol makes a noise of understanding, and noted something else down on the notebook. He shoots a kind smile to Kyungsoo. “Should we walk through the house and evaluate what might need to be done?”

Kyungsoo agrees, standing up to show Chanyeol around the house. Chanyeol has a boundless sense of energy to him, grinning at Kyungsoo excitedly as they start the tour. He takes Chanyeol through to each room, letting the contractor examine the place carefully. He pauses when they reach the solarium, looking at the array of plants with interest, before moving through the rest of the house. When they get to the upstairs bathroom, Kyungsoo is glad he had the foresight to stow away his makeup in one of the bedroom drawers he had brought with him when he had moved.

As they walk through the house, discussing some details about the house, Kyungsoo finds that his nerves settle down slightly. There’s still an unsteady beat to his heart; he’s not entirely used to interacting with strangers. A part of him feels anxious that he could be found out to be a zombie at any given moment, and he tries his best to quash the feeling. 

They return back to the kitchen table once they’re finished their walk through, only fifteen minutes later. 

“So I have a few thoughts on what needs to be done,” Chanyeol explains as he scans through the notes he had taken. “As it’s an old house, we definitely need to take a look at the wiring and plumbing. The water damage on the walls suggests there’s some issues with the plumbing, so we’ll definitely need to open up sections and replace them.” Chanyeol looks thoughtful. “Generally, with whole home renovations, the owners need new light fixtures, plumbing fixtures, a new flooring, and a new coat of paint. _At least_.” 

Kyungsoo nods. It makes sense, and those were all areas of the house that he’s noticed has been impacted as well. “How long would it take?” Kyungsoo asks. “Will I need to find another place to stay?”

“If we do focus on these essentials, we’re looking at a 2-3 month timeframe. Working on wiring and plumbing will take the most time because we have to open the walls up first, but it shouldn’t take too long,” Chanyeol replies. “We can work on rooms at a time so you don’t have to move out entirely, but you might be walking around some debris for awhile. Depending on the work that needs to be done with the fixtures, you might want a contingency place to stay.”

Kyungsoo digests the information slowly. Luckily, he’s financially supported enough that he knows the renovations won’t break the bank, although he’ll need to be careful with his budgeting for the next couple of months. If he needs to stay at a hotel for a few nights, he could budget that in as well—but he knows Baekhyun would be more than happy to host him on his couch for a while if need be. 

“That sounds good,” he says carefully, still rolling the idea around in his mind. The work needs to be done, even if he feels a little uneasy around someone new. It helps that Chanyeol’s human too—they’re generally more removed from the politics of speciesism.

Chanyeol lights up, a puppy-like smile growing on his face. There’s something effortless in his demeanour, in how he interacts with Kyungsoo, that makes him feel a little envious. Social skills were never his strongest forte. 

“Great!” Chanyeol enthuses. “Those are what we consider the must-haves, but this project is _yours_ too. It’s an opportunity for you to make this home yours, if you choose.” He waves a hand around the room, as if pointing out the whole house. “Are there any changes you would _like_ to see? Any plans for a new space, or reconstructing how a room looks? Changes that would really make this place feel like _your_ home.” 

Kyungsoo stills, feeling strangely flustered. With all that he’s been occupied with, he hasn’t allowed himself much time to imagine what _home_ looked like to him. It hadn’t occurred to him that he _could_. “Um,” he stammers. “I haven’t— I haven’t thought that far,” Kyungsoo admits, feeling embarrassed. 

“That’s okay,” Chanyeol assures him. “We can look at design inspiration together, if you’d like.” He pauses, a thoughtful look appearing on his face. “Oh—and your solarium? I noticed you have a lot of plants, maybe we can spruce that up a bit more?”

For some reason, the suggestion makes him nervous, and Kyungsoo squirms slightly. “I think— I would like that, I think,” he agrees quietly. The image of a sun-lit room for his plants to thrive sounds ideal. 

At his tentative agreement, Chanyeol sits back, looking pleased. “Okay,” he says, a warm smile on his face. “Maybe this is enough for now? I can draw up the quotation and send it over to you.” 

Kyungsoo agrees. They formalize a few more details before Chanyeol leaves. When Kyungsoo finally shuts the door behind him, he sags against the wood, feeling suddenly depleted of energy. He’s thankful, for once, that he doesn’t start work until the afternoon, so he could go lay in bed and decompress. 

Chanyeol had been a warm presence, almost intimidatingly so. But he seemed enthusiastic about the renovation project, and Kyungsoo is finding it difficult to not share some of the excitement—at least somewhat. 

A part of him is scared to want for too much. A part of him can’t help but feel like the other shoe is just willing to drop.

But for the first time, _really_ , Kyungsoo feels a glimmer of excitement to be living in the house.  


* * *

  
“So when does he start working?” Baekhyun asks, shifting on the chair Kyungsoo had dragged from his kitchen to the solarium.

His best friend watches as he tends to his plants, carefully examining _Meokmul_ , the zamioculcas zamiifolia—or ZZ plant, for short—he had affectionately named after picking it up from the side of the road. He sticks his finger into the soil, noting its dryness levels, before nodding satisfactorily. It had been overwatered before, but is looking much better now.

Kyungsoo pats off the soil from his finger before picking up a pair of scissors to deadhead his peace lily. “Tomorrow,” he answers Baekhyun, cutting off a brown stalk from the base. “But he’s only starting out with coming by once a week as he finishes another job, he said.”

Baekhyun makes an affirmative noise. “Are you renovating the whole place then?”

“Mostly just what needs to be fixed right now,” Kyungsoo explains. His attention is still focused on his plants. “Wiring, plumbing, and of course the walls and floors. He said that’s the most common fix-ups for older homes. But he asked if there were any other renos’ I had wanted done too.”

“So?” Baekhyun prompts. From the corner of his eye, Kyungsoo sees as the banshee stands and stretches, before plopping back into the chair. “Are you going to do anything else to this place?” 

The quotation he had been sent by Chanyeol a day after their consultation was more than reasonable. The contractor had welcomed the idea of Kyungsoo having more design input that went beyond merely fixing the place back to livable standards, and had even sent over a few resources if he ever wanted design inspiration.

It was an appreciated gesture, but for Kyungsoo, it made him balk against making any further decisions about it. Something about going beyond _necessities_ made him hesitate. 

Kyungsoo shrugs, avoiding Baekhyun’s question. Picking up the spray bottle filled with distilled water, he starts misting his plants to give them some extra moisture. The dry winter air was drying them out a bit too much. 

“Why not?” Baekhyun presses.

Kyungsoo sighs. He continues misting the plants, checking for any further browning as he does so. “Dunno,” he says evasively. His best friend shoots him a piercing stare, eliciting another sigh. “I guess I just feel weird about it. Like it’s a commitment I’m not ready to make.”

Baekhyun stares at him. “But it’s not like you’re getting _married_. You literally put a down payment on this place, that’s pretty committed already.”

His best friend has a point, but Kyungsoo just shrugs again. 

“Unless it’s the cost...?” 

He shakes his head, setting down the spray bottle back in the corner of the room where he’s been keeping his tools. “No, it’s not that.” Kyungsoo hesitates, busying himself with straightening out all his tools on the floor. Behind him, Baekhyun waits patiently. “It’s like...it’s like if I do more than what’s just _expected_ of me, it feels like I’m putting all my eggs into one basket.”

He’s not sure if he’s making any sense, but Baekhyun only nods like he understands. 

“It’s...the step from having this place just be my place of residence—where I live—and it being my actual _home_ ,” Kyungsoo continues. “There’s this gap, this difference I see in my own brain. And it’s stopping me from committing to doing more reno’ work.”

Baekhyun clucks his tongue. “You mean you don’t want to put more of yourself into this house because you’re scared of making it feel like home?”

Kyungsoo shrugs. Finally, he turns around to face his friend again. Baekhyun has a considering look on his face.

“Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun says. “You’re scared of investing too much of yourself into this house. But why?” he asks, curiosity lacing his tone. 

He doesn’t know if he has the words to articulate it—why he feels this way in the first place. “It just...it feels like I’m waiting for it to all go wrong again. And then what do I do? I can’t keep moving around,” Kyungsoo says, slowly sounding out the syllables as he goes, like he’s figuring out what to say himself.

“Oh,” Baekhyun says, but this time, there’s a note of understanding and something else too—pity, or sadness. Kyungsoo isn’t sure which, or if there’s a difference in this case. “Like if you fully pour your heart into making this into a place you _actually_ want to live in, you’re worried that something can threaten that again. The safety of your own space.” 

There’s another look on Baekhyun’s face, one that looks torn, and Kyungsoo immediately knows Baekhyun is thinking about the desecration of his apartment. He knows that on some level, Baekhyun feels guilty for encouraging Kyungsoo to move away from the safety of the Unnatural community in the towns. 

Never in a million years would Kyungsoo ever even consider blaming Baekhyun for some of the struggles he’s been facing as an Unnatural in the big city, but he can’t help but admit that maybe Seoul isn’t for him after all. He’s not sure he feels safe here. If he _can_ feel safe. 

And if he ends up turning this house into a home that feels like _his_ , then Kyungsoo doesn’t know how he’ll feel if the safety is violated once more. 

But when he sees the guilt surface on Baekhyun’s face, Kyungsoo swallows his worries down and settles for another shrug, shifting his shoulders awkwardly. “Maybe it’s for the best to be careful for now,” he offers weakly. Kyungsoo knows it’s a weak substitution for comfort, but he doesn’t know what else to say.

He doesn’t want to lie to Baekhyun either, doesn’t want to pretend that he feels right in Seoul. 

“Give it some thought anyway, Kyungsoo, please?” Baekhyun says. He looks hopeful. “You deserve to have a place here. Especially one that makes you happy. For your own health. Or at least for your plants?”

Kyungsoo looks around at the miserable-looking room. It’s hard not to want, at least some degree, a place that suits not just his needs, but his _wants_ as well. 

“Maybe,” he concedes at last.  


* * *

  
The next day arrives quicker than Kyungsoo is prepared for it too—and with it, Park Chanyeol comes by once again. This time, Kyungsoo is able to hear the low rumble of the car engine coming up his driveway and manages to compose himself before he hears the following knock on the door. 

He swings the door open to the taller man, still with the smooth smile and handsome face and deep dimples. “Hi!” Chanyeol greets Kyungsoo, ducking under the doorframe as he steps in. In one hand, he’s carrying a large box that is presumably filled with tools.

“Hello,” Kyungsoo replies, a lot more quietly. There’s a lurching in his stomach. The nervous feeling he gets when he’s around people he’s not familiar with returns, and unintentionally, he holds himself stiff and rigid.

Chanyeol sets the box down on the ground, displacing a small cloud of chalky dust from the broken tiles grinding against each other. It makes Kyungsoo flinch, and then flush with embarrassment, but Chanyeol doesn’t seem to notice or doesn’t care. 

“How are you doing, Mr. Do?” Chanyeol asks, rummaging in his pockets before he unearths his gloves. He’s wearing dark jeans and a fitted t-shirt that stretches nicely over his broad shoulders and thick arms. On his feet are a pair of leather boots that go up to his ankle, surprisingly fashionable for something so heavy-duty. 

Kyungsoo glances down at his own outfit, self-consciously curling his fingers over the too-long sleeves of his thick, warm sweater. He must look like a slob, but he doesn’t have work until the afternoon, and he spent the morning tidying up the house before sponging on his makeup. 

He startles, feeling his ears burn red, when he sees Chanyeol still waiting for his response. “Oh!” he says, embarrassed. “I’m— please call me Kyungsoo,” he says. _Mr. Do_ felt too formal and authoritative. “And I’m good,” he replies belatedly. Kyungsoo scratches at the tip of his nose, hoping his flush isn’t too apparent. “You?” 

Chanyeol laughs, eyes crinkling in the corners. “Kyungsoo, then,” he says, almost teasingly. Kyungsoo fights the urge to hide his face behind his hands. “I’m doing well, almost finished up with my other job right now. Then I can focus on working with you.” The taller man crouches down and unlatches the box, revealing a set of tools, just as Kyungsoo had presumed. It’s filled with wenches and drills and other strange devices he doesn’t quite recognize. “You will be in the house until the afternoon, right?”

Kyungsoo nods, fidgeting with the ends of the sweater sleeves. “I’ll be out of your way,” he says. He watches as Chanyeol checks over the tools before taking out a pipe wrench. “You can— you can work with ease. You’ll have to lock up behind you though, probably, if that’s okay?”

“Of course,” Chanyeol agrees warmly. He’s still smiling at Kyungsoo, the brightness of his grin making his neck prickle with heat. “I’ll be checking on your plumbing today, starting with your vanity washroom.” Chanyeol explains. “Would you want me to go over anything before I start?”

Kyungsoo shakes his head, his heart stuttering in his chest. Being around Chanyeol makes him nervous. He’s awkward enough as it is, but somehow, he feels like he forgets how to act like a normal person around the other man. It’s best if he keeps his distance. “I’ll just— be in the plant room,” Kyungsoo says. He toys with the strings of his hoodies just to busy with his hands. “If you need me. But, um, please feel free to help yourself to anything in the kitchen.” 

“Thanks, Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol says. His name rolls smoothly off his tongue, and for some reason, it makes Kyungsoo blush harder. “I’ll see you before you leave, then?” 

He nods jerkily, waving awkwardly at Chanyeol, before taking a step back. He almost trips over the back of his slippers which are slightly too big for his feet, and Chanyeol lets out a small laugh in response. With a face burning with horror, Kyungsoo mutters an apology before retreating to the back of the house where the plants are.

As he tends to his plants—repotting some, adding fertilizer in others—he can hear the occasional thumping and drilling noises coming from Chanyeol’s work. Strangely enough, it becomes white noise that accompanies him as he focuses on his plants, a nice departure from the otherwise silence in the house. 

A few hours later, Kyungsoo has to leave for work. Despite the thumping in his heart and the rush of anxiety, he heads towards the source of the noise. In the vanity washroom, Chanyeol is fiddling with some equipment. There is a large holes canvassed into the ground, exposing the piping underneath. For a moment, he watches as Chanyeol pauses for a brief second, head tilted to the side as if he is listening for something, before returning to his work. He’s distracted momentarily by the stretch of Chanyeol’s arms and the flex of his back as he fiddles with the pipes.

Horror dawns in him as soon as he realizes that he’s just been standing there like a _fool_ , and he feels heat rush to his face. Before Chanyeol can turn around and notice him, Kyungsoo angles himself away from the door and quickly informs him that he’s leaving now. 

“I’ll be back by 11 PM,” Kyungsoo explains, his face hot enough that it feels like it’s on fire. “So feel free to leave whenever you want to. The spare key is under the welcome mat.” 

Chanyeol nods, his dimpled smile on his face. “Thanks, Kyungsoo. I’ll send you a message when I leave so you know I’ve locked up.” He runs a hair through his silver hair. “I’ll be back again next week to work on the wiring. Same day and same time?”

“Yes, thank you,” Kyungsoo says, hoping he doesn’t sound as shy as he feels around Chanyeol. “Um— bye now.” 

“Bye, Kyungsoo.” Chanyeol waves at him. “I’ll see you next time.”

Before he can make a fool of himself any further, Kyungsoo hurries out the door. Hopefully by the time next week swings around, he isn’t as _idiotic_ around the other man.  


* * *

  
The week passes by quickly between Kyungsoo’s long and late shifts at the hospital and some afternoons spent with Baekhyun. The banshee seems determined to keep Kyungsoo company despite living further away, but Kyungsoo can’t say he’s not grateful to him or to the fact that as as a software developer, Baekhyun has the option to work remotely. Their schedules could never align otherwise, given Kyungsoo’s odd work hours. 

He hadn’t asked about Chanyeol much, for which Kyungsoo was grateful, because for some reason, the taller man had the ability to render him slightly stupid. And when Chanyeol comes by on Thursday again, exactly one week since his first day working on Kyungsoo’s house, he’s no more composed around him. 

“Hi,” he says lamely, feeling himself turn red when Chanyeol warmly greets him as soon as he opens the door. The other man looks handsome. 

“Kyungsoo!” Chanyeol says. “How was your week?”

His mouth feels dry. “Fine,” Kyungsoo says, the word forced out of him. He feels tongue-tied, suddenly incapable of speech. But he knows it comes off as brusque instead when he sees the smile on Chanyeol’s face droop slightly. 

“Oh,” Chanyeol replies, slightly less enthusiastic than before. He bends down to pick up his tools from where he had set it on the floor of the foyer, his arms flexing attractively as he lifts it up. It must be heavy, but he seems unbothered by the weight. “I’m glad it went well. I guess I’ll go start on work then? I’ll be continuing with the plumbing fixtures today.” He punctuates the end of his sentence with a smaller, slightly awkward smile. 

Kyungsoo flinches back, his eyes wide as he looks up at Chanyeol. “Oh, um, okay,” he stammers. “Um. Thank you.” He’s made things awkward, and he internally curses himself out for his own inability to graciously handle social interaction. Kyungsoo racks his brain for a way to recover from his clumsy wording, biting down on his bottom lip. “Um, I hope you have a good day, Chanyeol. I’ll be making some food in the kitchen and you’re welcome to treat yourself to anything in the pantry if you’d like?” His heart flips uncomfortably, and he twists the hem of his sweater in nervousness. 

Surprisingly, it seems to help, because some of the tension drains from Chanyeol’s shoulder and the taller man throws his head back in a laugh. “Thank you,” he says, earnestness infusing his voice. “I was going to start on the kitchen sink today—would you want me to work elsewhere first?”

“No,” Kyungsoo interjects quickly. “It’s okay, you’re— you’re more than welcome to work in there. As long as I’m not disturbing you?” he finishes awkwardly. He scratches his eyebrow, hoping it hides the ever present blush on his face. 

“You won’t be,” Chanyeol assures him. 

There’s another nervous flutter in his chest when they enter the kitchen. Kyungsoo can’t help but feel self-conscious of himself, hyper-aware of every movement he makes and whether his makeup is rubbing off. 

To his credit, Chanyeol is ever the consummate professional, and sets to work immediately while Kyungsoo puts together a simple kale caesar salad on the far end of the kitchen counter. He falls into the rhythm of putting together his lunch quickly enough, though he can’t help but steal glances at Chanyeol out of the corner of his eye every so often. 

It still comes as a surprise when Chanyeol speaks up out of nowhere, just as he’s test-tasting the vinaigrette he had quickly whipped together.

“So what do you do for a living, Kyungsoo?” Chanyeol asks, tilting his head toward him, a curious look in his eyes. “If you’re comfortable sharing, that is!”

Kyungsoo looks down at his bowl. He can feel the tip of his ears heating up again. “Um, I’m a— a pharm tech,” he says. “I work at the Seoul National University Hospital.” 

Chanyeol lets out an impressed whistle. “Wow, that’s a pretty prestigious hospital, isn’t it?” 

He shrugs, a little flustered. “Um, I guess so. The pay is good.” He hesitates for a moment, wondering if it would feel too invasive if he asked Chanyeol questions back, but rushes on before he lost his nerve. “What about you?” Kyungsoo asks. “Have you always been managing your own business as a general contractor?”

The other man shakes his head, setting down the pipe wench. “Actually, I wanted to go into music,” he says. “I was part of a band in high school—called the FlameThrowers, lame right?—and I played the drums. I was convinced we’d be signed to a label once we graduated, but...” he trails off with a small, self-deprecating laugh. “Well, it was unsustainable.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t know Chanyeol well, but even then he could imagine a younger Chanyeol who thrived on the adrenaline rush from performing, who could charm the crowds with his easy-going personality. It suited him.

“I really like what I do now though,” Chanyeol continues, picking up the tool again. “I enjoy working with my hands, and honestly? I love that I can help people create homes. A place that feels right for _them_.” A wistful smile toyed at the corner of his lips that brought butterflies to Kyungsoo’s stomach. 

“Oh,” Kyungsoo says quietly, mulling Chanyeol’s words over. It’s a beautiful sentiment, and Kyungsoo feels that it’s true despite his limited knowledge of Chanyeol. He seems to embody warmth, even in their brief interaction, and a part of him wants to say more, something that feels meaningful like ‘I bet you make people very happy’ or ‘I know your work must be beautiful’—but it’s not _him_. He’s not good at saying words, and having them be articulated eloquently. So he doesn’t. 

But their short conversation seems to have broken some ice, because even when they return back to silence, some of the stiltedness from earlier has shifted and eased. Chanyeol focuses on replacing the sink plumbing with increasingly complicated parts that Kyungsoo has never seen before. When it’s time for Kyungsoo to leave for work, he’s almost sad to leave the companionable quiet they struck between themselves. 

“The other renos I’m doing are almost finished up now,” Chanyeol says just as Kyungsoo heads out the door, this time in his scrubs. “I’ll see you again in a few days, Kyungsoo.”

His stomach flutters. “Okay,” he responds quietly, slipping his feet into his shoes. “I’ll see you soon, Chanyeol. Thank you for your work today.” And then the last thing he sees before he closes the door is Chanyeol’s handsome smile.  


* * *

  
True to his words, Chanyeol starts coming over to work more regularly after that. In the following week, he advises Kyungsoo that he would begin working three days that week. The plumbing work quickly finishes, and the re-wiring seems to be well on its way as well, according to Chanyeol.

The process seems more seamless and quick than Kyungsoo had imagined, albeit with there now being several holes in the walls to expose the fixtures before Chanyeol will patch them up again. But what he finds the most surprising, however, is how much Chanyeol seems to just enjoy— _talking_.

It was as if a dam had broken the day they had their first proper conversation, brief as it was. After that day, Chanyeol has taken it as an invitation to strike up conversations with Kyungsoo, who, despite the best of his efforts, still cannot help but clam up around the handsome man. It came as a shock that Chanyeol would even want to talk to him. He seemed to have a never-ending repertoire of stories to tell, whether it be about his sister who had just recently gotten married, or a friend named Sehun who he sometimes contracted to help out with paint jobs.

In spite of himself, Kyungsoo finds himself looking forward to these conversations. Still, he tries not to think too hard on why he tends to work nearby Chanyeol and whichever room he happens to be in for the day. 

On Thursday, the last day of that week that Chanyeol would be working with Kyungsoo, Chanyeol asks about Yixing.

“How do I know him?” Kyungsoo repeats, a little absentmindedly, as he scans through some of the mortgage documents that had been sent to him by the bank. He moves to push the bridge of his glasses with his forefinger, meeting only air. Kyungsoo blinks, shaking his head, and sneaks a glance to see if Chanyeol had noticed. He had forgotten he was wearing his contacts. 

Thankfully, the taller man is busy examining the electrical service panel that’s hidden inside the small pantry next to his kitchen, which is where Kyungsoo is seated at the dining table. 

“Yeah, how did you meet? He referred you to me, right?” Chanyeol calls back. A faint clanking noise can be heard, and Kyungsoo smushes down the curiosity that piques at the sound.

Kyungsoo moves the documents to the side, straightening them up so that they’re neatly aligned with one another. “He did,” Kyungsoo confirms. “He mentioned that you’re friends?” 

The clanking noises pause, perhaps so Chanyeol could hear Kyungsoo’s quiet voice a little better. Then, Chanyeol re-emerges from the pantry doorway and leans on it. “We’re practically family,” Chanyeol responds, chuckling a little. A fond look comes across his face. “I’ve known him for years. Ever since he moved here from Changsha, actually.” 

“Oh, um, I didn’t realize,” Kyungsoo says. His eyes linger on the way Chanyeol’s fingers close over the wire cutter in his hand. It looks tiny in his grasp. “I met him maybe two years ago? He’s actually the boyfriend of my best friend.”

Recognition lights up Chanyeol’s eyes. “Oh! Baekhyun, right?” Kyungsoo nods, a little surprised that he knows him. Baekhyun had never mentioned it. “How did you two meet then? You and Baekhyun.”

Kyungsoo thinks back to his first time meeting Baekhyun. He scratches his chin with the pen cap in thought. “I grew up in a pretty small community and it was pretty isolated,” he starts, a little hesitant. He had grown up on what was essentially a zombie commune, and Kyungsoo has no intention of announcing that to Chanyeol. Not when he’s just starting to get used to the presence of the other man. “But I decided to attend a public middle school in the neighbourhood. I met Baekhyun there. We had the same homeroom, actually.”

“Oh, so you’ve known him for a pretty long time then!” Chanyeol says, looking fascinated by Kyungsoo’s story. 

There was a moment in his adolescence—a teenaged rebellion if you will—where Kyungsoo had insisted on leaving the community schooling classes to attend a public school. Typically, communes existed due to the inter-species prejudice, and Kyungsoo’s family was intentional in raising Kyungsoo in the community. When Kyungsoo decided he wanted to be a _normal_ kid, however, they let him go with some worry.

It turned out that they were right to be concerned. The kids at the school weren’t kind to him, even with his makeup and contacts in, and they weren’t kind to the only other Unnatural at the school either—Byun Baekhyun, the banshee. While it was true that they were in the same homeroom, as shy as he was and having been sheltered from strangers growing up, Kyungsoo had never dared to approach Baekhyun.

It took Kyungsoo stumbling upon Baekhyun being cornered by some of the dusk-elves for that to change. Something in him snapped, something that his parents later informed him was a _berserk_ mode, and the next thing he knew, he had thrown the other kids—three of them—off of Baekhyun in a fit of unconscious rage. The fight would have escalated, he heard from Baekhyun later, if he hadn’t—literally—shrieked like a banshee. There was no blood shed, thankfully, but it painted as much of a target on both their backs after that as it did ward people away from them. 

Kyungsoo tells Chanyeol none of this. 

“We’ve been friends for what feels like forever,” he says instead. “He moved here for university, and I studied back home, so we had a few years where we didn’t get to see each other too much.” He smiles, unbidden but without meaning to, a fond look on his face. “He’s the one who convinced me to move out here, really.”

Chanyeol studies his face for a few seconds. “You must be good friends,” he comments. “How long ago did you move here then?”

He thinks it over, counting on his fingers. “Eight months ago?” he says. “Back in June.”

“You haven’t been here for long then!” Chanyeol remarks, his eyes wide with surprise. “It’s incredible that you could find a nice fixer-upper, not even too far away from Seoul.”

A note of bitterness sits on the tip of Kyungsoo’s tongue. He doesn’t feel incredible by any means, though he knows he’s privileged enough to be able to afford it at only 28 years old. Judging from Chanyeol’s expression though, he guesses that Yixing hadn’t told him anything about why he moved in the first place. 

“What about you?” Kyungsoo says instead, hoping Chanyeol doesn’t notice the change in subject. “Have you lived in Seoul all your life?”

If anything, Chanyeol looks excited at the question. He hates that it leaves a slight flutter in his heart. “Yep, born and raised! My parents are city-dwellers, even though my mom’s grandparents _hated_ it.” 

From what Kyungsoo knows about humans, many of them had also come from more rural towns before migrating to the city with grandiose dreams of upward mobility. He heard that some of the elderly folks frowned upon this departure from tradition, and assumed that was the case for Chanyeol’s family. He nods, to show he’s listening, and Chanyeol jumps into a story about how his parents had met. His face is expressive, hands moving animatedly to illustrate his point. It’s cute, a thought that immediately brings a flush to Kyungsoo’s face. 

Kyungsoo finds himself laughing softly at some of the more dramatic parts of the story, involving a getaway car from Chanyeol’s mother and a fake ID from his father, and he’s wrapped up enough in Chanyeol’s tale that he doesn’t even pause to feel self-conscious about how quickly he’s warming up to the other man. With each laugh that Chanyeol draws from him, the more he looks pleased. 

Twenty minutes fly by with Chanyeol making no move to get back to work, and Kyungsoo is surprised to find he doesn’t feel inclined to remind him either. He’s startled when he glances at his phone for the time and realizes he has to leave for work or else he’ll be late. 

“I should get going,” Kyungsoo says, a tiny smile still toying at the corner of his lips. He pulls his sweater sleeves over his hands, a nervous habit, before standing from his chair. “I have to get to work,” he explains. “I’m sorry for distracting you from your work.” 

He was worried he was coming across as rude, but Chanyeol only waves away his apologies with a flap of his hand. “It was nice to hear more about you,” he says. Kyungsoo can’t help but flush from his words, and he averts his eyes. He mumbles a quick goodbye and rushes out the door, feeling every bit like he’s running away. 

Something about Chanyeol disarms him, and he’s not sure how he feels about it. 

Later that night, Kyungsoo returns home to an empty, dark house. The door had been locked by Chanyeol when he left, as he always does, and Kyungsoo’s just starting to get used to finding at least one thing different when he’s home. Usually, it’s another hole in the wall to expose the fixtures underneath. 

Tonight, though, Kyungsoo nearly screams out loud when he sees a small, but dark, silhouette sitting on his kitchen counter. He edges closer with slow, careful movements, until his hand finds the lightswitch on the wall and he flicks it on.

Strangely enough, there’s a potted succulent on the counter. It’s small and compact—only about the size of Kyungsoo’s fist—and its fleshy leaves are pale greyish-brown with red hues at the tips, blooming outwards from a single stem in a beautiful rosette. There’s a note sitting next to the clay pot that Kyungsoo didn’t notice earlier, and he picks it up. Large, messy handwriting is scrawled across the paper in black ink. 

_I forgot to give this to you before I left, I’m such an idiot! Woops :). Anyway, my older sister was giving away some of her plants because her and her husband at a black thumb lol but I noticed that you seem to like plants and thought you might like this too! It’s tiny and reminded me of you._

_No pressure, just give it back to me if you don’t want it! :)  
-Chanyeol_

Kyungsoo reads the note over a few more times, a strange warmth blooming in his chest. Chanyeol gave him a plant because it reminded him of Kyungsoo. There’s a fluttering sensation in his stomach, and a smile rises on his face. He strokes one finger over the powdery dusting on the grey leaves. Despite what Chanyeol said about his sister’s lack of a green thumb, it seems healthy and strong. 

“Huchu,” Kyungsoo says to himself, quiet, and a little foolishly. “I’ll name you Huchu.”  


* * *

  
The next day that Chanyeol is scheduled to work on Kyungsoo’s house falls on Tuesday; it’s Kyungsoo’s day off. With more time in the day, he decides to bake a maple fig pie. The figs are in season now, what with the wind and air crisping up outside. The decadent, molten aroma of the maple effuses throughout Kyungsoo’s house, and he pulls the pie out of the oven for cooling down right when he hears the heavy knock on his door. 

He’s treated to the sight of an overjoyed looking Chanyeol, who doesn’t hesitate before walking in through Kyungsoo’s door. The easy way he navigates around him makes his heart pound in his chest, and Kyungsoo busies himself with locking the door to try and recollect himself. 

“It smells delicious in here, Kyungsoo!” Chanyeol says, waving an enthusiastic hand around. The tools clatter noisily inside the toolbox from the movement. Kyungsoo marvels at how light Chanyeol makes the toolbox seem, although he knows it must be pretty heavy in reality. “I could smell it all the way from your driveway—what are you making?”

Kyungsoo scratches at his cheek. “Maple fig pie,” he replies. His cheeks feel warm. “I, um, wanted to thank you. For the succulent you left me last week.” 

At Kyungsoo’s words, Chanyeol _glows_ and smiles magnificently. “You liked it?” he asks hopefully.

Kyungsoo shyly nods. “It’s really cute,” he says, peering up at Chanyeol through his lashes. Chanyeol’s smile is infectious, and Kyungsoo feels his mouth curving into a small smile in response. “I love it. Thank you.” 

Chanyeol looks taken aback for a moment, stunned into silence, before his face softens into a smaller grin. “You’re welcome, Kyungsoo.” There’s a faint dusting of red across his cheeks, and the look on his face is almost shy. It must be cold outside, Kyungsoo thinks. The ruddiness must be from the sharp winter wind. 

“Do you want to try a bite?” Kyungsoo asks, hesitant, almost afraid that Chanyeol would say no. But Chanyeol’s face only lights up, and he nods enthusiastically. 

“Please,” he says. The sight of his dimples make Kyungsoo’s stomach flutter. 

They make their way into their kitchen, where the pie is still cooling on top of the stove. While Kyungsoo cuts them both a slice, Chanyeol sets his toolbox on the floor next to the sink. He tries not to study Chanyeol’s expression as he finally digs a forkful of the pie Kyungsoo handed him, and pretends to put away the dishes in the drying rack to occupy himself.

Still, his heart thumps loudly as he waits for Chanyeol’s verdict. It’s ridiculous, how much Chanyeol’s opinion means to him when he still barely knows the other man. The trepidation of knowing how he’ll react makes his stomach churn. A second later, Chanyeol makes a loud noise. Kyungsoo jumps, having not expected it, and turns around to look at the other man. 

“Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol says loudly, his eyes wide. “Kyungsoo, _holy shit_. This is _delicious_.” He forks out another large scoop and shovels it into his mouth, and lets out a nearly pornographic moan.

Kyungsoo blushes. “Thank you,” he says, flushing harder when he sees the joy twinkling in Chanyeol’s eyes. His reactions are nearly exaggerated, but he still can’t help the pleased thrill when he seems how delighted Chanyeol seems.

“You’re incredible,” moans Chanyeol again through another mouthful. “Can I eat your baking forever?”

“I,” Kyungsoo stammers, at a loss for words. His heart leaps into his throat. “I, um —” his brain blanks. 

He’s grateful when Chanyeol doesn’t seem to notice, as the taller man finishes off the slice of pie. “God, I want seconds. But I should get to work,” Chanyeol bemoans, licking his lips. 

Kyungsoo feels a stab of pride. “You should eat another slice then, Chanyeol. The work can wait.” 

But Chanyeol only shakes his head. “Maybe in a bit—when I take a short break. There’s a lot I want to get done today,” he says. 

“Why don’t I help you out?” Kyungsoo offers before he can think more of it. “I don’t have work today. I can do anything that doesn’t require great technical skills. Or a license,” he adds. 

“I can’t do that,” Chanyeol responds immediately. “It’s your day off! Plus, you’re already paying me to do this!”

Kyungsoo shrugs, even as his face flushes in embarrassment. He hopes he’s not being inappropriate, or making things uncomfortable for Chanyeol. “I honestly don’t mind,” he offers. “It would be nice to help out since it’s my house after all. It feels more meaningful. And it might be more efficient between the two of us.” 

Chanyeol looks as though he’s about to protest further, but Kyungsoo only sends him a baleful look. The other man hesitates, but then sighs. “Only if you _really_ want to,” he says, resigned. “But you’re only doing the easy stuff.” 

True to his words, Chanyeol essentially relegates Kyungsoo into only handing over his tools. But the work goes by quickly, and the day passes by between Chanyeol sharing more stories about himself and Chanyeol drawing out answers from Kyungsoo. Slowly, Kyungsoo finds himself laughing easier, smiling easier around the other man. The words still don’t come easily, nor does how flustered he feels around Chanyeol go away.

But it’s comfortable, too, in a way that he normally doesn’t feel around others besides Baekhyun and, more recently, Yixing. 

They end up stopping to eat more pie two more times throughout the day, and when Chanyeol leaves in the evening, Kyungsoo makes sure to pack the rest of it away in a container for him.

“It’s your pie,” Chanyeol protests, but Kyungsoo shakes his head. “It’s to thank you,” he replies. 

Eventually, Chanyeol concedes. It’s the first time Kyungsoo is around for when Chanyeol finishes up work for the day. He waves at Chanyeol, his movements gentle and conservative in comparison to the other man’s enthusiastic goodbye. 

It makes him laugh, just quietly, just to himself. There’s something about Chanyeol that makes Kyungsoo feel... _lighter_.

He ignores the pang in his heart.  


* * *

  
From then on, Chanyeol and Kyungsoo fall into a routine. 

Eventually, as the work ramps up, Chanyeol starts going over to Kyungsoo’s house five days a week. When Kyungsoo has work in the afternoons, he makes sure he’s ready, awake and makeup and contacts on, to greet Chanyeol at the door. 

The re-wiring goes smoothly, as with repairing the damaged walls. Once the kitchen remodelling has mostly been completed with new plumbing fixtures and new counters—now only waiting for a backsplash and cabinets replacement—Kyungsoo starts cooking more too. It’s mostly so he doesn’t have to go out to buy food when he’s at the hospital, but he ends up making enough to share with Chanyeol too.

When he has his days off, he continues helping Chanyeol with small tasks. Kyungsoo tells himself that it’s so the renovations will finish faster, that he doesn’t have much to do anyway. But the more time he spends with Chanyeol, the more he finds himself looking forward to their conversations. 

It’s over their short meals together, over the days of working together, that Kyungsoo learns more about Chanyeol. He learns that they both share a similar taste in music, and that they had both gone to the CBX concert a few months back. Chanyeol has a habit of drumming a beat with his tools as he works, and Kyungsoo finds himself humming along with a melody. He learns that Chanyeol has a puppy named Toben, and to Kyungsoo’s delight, he has a gallery full of photos of the poodle. In return, Kyungsoo shares more about his plants with Chanyeol, admits that he names them with an embarrassed flush on his cheeks. They trade stories about Baekhyun’s stint in the banshee acapella group during university, and Yixing’s teenage obsession with Twilight. 

The more Kyungsoo gets to know Chanyeol, the more he feels comfortable around him. Still, not once does he mention his own zombie heritage—but fortunately, neither does Chanyeol talk about his own species either. It seems increasingly likely that he’s human, as Kyungsoo had suspected. It made the most sense too, given how well they seem to get along with one another. No one would treat a zombie that kindly if they knew.

Despite the surprising ease of friendship between them, Kyungsoo’s still shocked when one day—about a full month since he started working with Kyungsoo on a full-time basis—Chanyeol asks him if he’d like to go to the paint store together. 

“To look at paint swatches,” Chanyeol explains as he installs drywall to one of the holes in Kyungsoo’s living room wall. “Once we finish with the rest of the dry-walling, we can work on painting the house. You’re not sure which colours you’d like, right?” 

“No. Not yet,” Kyungsoo confirms. He looks up from the cutting board and glances at Chanyeol, stealing a look at the taller man and the broadness of his back before dropping his gaze back to the mushrooms he was chopping. 

Chanyeol continues applying the drywall. “Let’s go together! If you pick out the paint shades there, we can purchase them and take them back here. You start work at noon, right?”

“Together?” Kyungsoo echoes weakly. The suggestion makes him blush. In spite of how much more comfortable he is now around Chanyeol, the other man still makes him slightly nervous and he fidgets before answering. “Um, yes—noon.”

“We don’t have much time then,” Chanyeol comments, making a considering noise low in his throat. “Why don’t we go to the paint store in the city and I can drop you off at work right after?”

“I don’t want to trouble you,” Kyungsoo protests immediately, setting down the knife. “I can just go before work so you don’t have to play chauffeur for me all day.” 

Chanyeol shoots him a comforting smile. “Nah, it’s not a problem at all. This way, I can take the paint cans home so you don’t have to walk home with them.” Kyungsoo opens his mouth to refute—they wouldn’t be heavy for _him_ , but Chanyeol doesn’t know that either. Before he can think of something to say, however, Chanyeol interjects. “I think it’d be nice to go together,” he admits, looking abashed. 

Kyungsoo closes his mouth, his heartbeat accelerating at Chanyeol’s words. He can’t believe, sometimes, how kind the other man is. How easily he disarms him.

“Okay,” Kyungsoo acquiesces. “Just let me finish lunch for us both first, and then we can go.”

Chanyeol beams at him.  


* * *

  
A part of Kyungsoo was worried that sitting in the car with Chanyeol would be awkward somehow, but it turns out that Chanyeol is as easy to talk to as he is back in Kyungsoo’s house. 

“You can pick the music,” says Chanyeol, handing Kyungsoo his phone. His lock screen is a photo of Toben bounding excitedly toward a tall figure, his fluffy black curls a blur in the photo. He notices a familiar set of ears on the figure, and assumes it’s Chanyeol that Toben is running toward. 

Kyungsoo feels his heart melt at the photo. “Cute,” he says quietly with a tiny smile. 

“A-Ah, really?” Chanyeol responds. Kyungsoo hears him laugh with a tinge of nervousness, and he glances up from the Spotify app to see Chanyeol covering the lower half of his face. His ears are slightly pink. 

“Ye—s?” Kyungsoo says slowly, tilting his head from confusion. He wonders why Chanyeol’s reacting so strangely. “Toben’s really cute. His fur looks so soft.”

A myriad of emotions flash on Chanyeol’s face, his hand coming back down to rest on the steering wheel. “Oh,” Chanyeol says, sounding almost disappointed—but Kyungsoo’s unsure why he would be. “ _Oh_ , yes—yes, Toben’s cute!”

Kyungsoo eventually settles on a soft rock song, remembering that Chanyeol had mentioned he likes the genre as well. 

True to his words, Chanyeol recognizes the song. “Oh, ‘How Do You Talk to an Angel’! That was the most-listened-to song on the day I was born,” he says, drumming his fingers on the wheel as the singer croons the chorus. Kyungsoo sings along quietly. 

When the song ends, Kyungsoo selects an R&B playlist instead. He’s thrown off guard when Chanyeol suddenly speaks up. “You have a beautiful voice, Kyungsoo.” His dimple makes him look extra charming, and Kyungsoo immediately blushes.

“Me?” Kyungsoo asks, a little ridiculously. His heart skips a beat, and he folds the sleeves of his hoodie over his hands, wanting to shrink behind it.

But it makes Chanyeol laugh, which only makes Kyungsoo’s heart flutter more. “It’s very warm, like honey. I would love to hear you sing more.”

The only person who has heard him sing _properly_ is Baekhyun. Best friends privilege—and one too many drunken karaoke sessions together. Yet when Chanyeol asks, he _wants_ to sing. “Oh,” Kyungsoo says, blushing harder. “M-Maybe one day. Only if you sing too.” He recalls Chanyeol used to be in a band.

“Deal,” Chanyeol replies immediately, brightening up. “Maybe I’ll bring a guitar to your house sometime!”

They arrive at the paint store soon after. It’s only a few blocks away from the hospital, close enough that Kyungsoo could walk there. Rows and rows of white shelves, filled with paint cans, filled up the small shop. Along the walls were other painting tools and supplies, and Kyungsoo curiously peeks at a particularly fluffy-looking paint roller. 

Chanyeol guides them toward the back wall, where a large display of paint swatches are held. There’s something satisfying about the display and the neat gradient of colours, even as Kyungsoo feels a spike of nervousness at the wide array of choices. 

“I’m not sure where to start,” he confesses to Chanyeol, playing with the sleeves of his hoodie to hide his fidgety hands. “I was just thinking of painting the house in a neutral colour.”

Chanyeol smiles at him reassuringly. “That’s perfect,” he assures him. “We can start there. I know you moved most of your furniture from your old place—are you thinking of buying any new furniture?”

Kyungsoo shakes his head. They’re all in perfectly fine working condition, and he’s already spent too much on the remodeling and the _down payment_ anyway. 

“Okay, that’s good. Your furniture is all pretty uniform in colour, so that makes it easy to work with.” Chanyeol scans through the paint swatches. “This eggshell white is as neutral as you can get,” he says, pulling out a card. “Since all your furniture is black, you could maximize on the minimalist aesthetic. Very ‘modern’.”

Taking the swatch in one hand, Kyungsoo nods in agreement.”I prefer simple interiors,” he says. 

“I thought you might,” Chanyeol says, laughing. He moves along the wall. “Bright colours and softer colours are trending right now too, like yellow or pink. Or more safer colours such as green, just to bring a pop of colour into your room.” He pulls out a few other cards, showing them to Kyungsoo. 

The green is nice and muted. It reminds him of his plants, and he takes the card to study it closer. “I like this,” Kyungsoo says shyly, lifting the card up for Chanyeol to see. “But I think it would be too much if we painted all the walls in this colour. Maybe something more neutral?”

Chanyeol lights up, eyes scanning the card. “Fir green,” he reads. “This could be an accent wall in your bathroom!”

Kyungsoo mulls it over. “I don’t hate it,” he says slowly. “That sounds— that sounds nice.”

“The rest of your house can be in a more neutral shade then,” Chanyeol suggests. He picks out a few more cards, this time in varying shades of white, and shows them to Kyungsoo. “We should test out a few different neutral shades—maybe something a little cooler if you’ll be using green as an accent.”

He looks at the cards they have picked out, trying to picture how the colours would look in his home. The more he thinks about it, the more it feels— _right_. Excitement wells up in him, slow and tentative, but there all the same. “Maybe...maybe I can get a throw and some pillows or some decor items in the green. To keep the house consistent in palette.” 

He imagines hanging up his favourite movie posters in a black frame to match his furniture, some paintings with greens and browns to warm up the room, huge blankets and fluffy pillows adorning his couch. After they replace the flooring with pale wooden floorboards, he could get a thrush rug that would feel soft under his toes. His plants would fit right into the decor, their vibrancy thriving amidst his decor. 

At first, it felt like his house would never feel livable. But now—now Kyungsoo can’t help but feel like it’s within his grasp. That it’s okay to live in a place that feels intrinsically like his own space. Chanyeol helped him. He’s been helping him, all this time. Even now, metaphorically holding his hand as he tries to decide on _paint swatches_ despite it not being part of his job description. It felt terrifyingly, horrifyingly, amazingly domestic.

 _Domestic_.

And then it’s like a dam has broken. Suddenly, all Kyungsoo can think about is how the living room would look with Chanyeol lounging back on the couch, patting the cushion next to him and making room for Kyungsoo as they watch the latest film together. He thinks of how Chanyeol would look in the kitchen in the morning, the sunlight streaming through the window and casting a glow on his bed-mussed hair. He pictures Chanyeol sitting with him in the solarium, guitar in hand as Kyungsoo waters Huchu and Meokmul and his other plant babies. It feels like too much, and not enough all at the same time.

Just as abruptly as the thoughts sweep into his mind, they disperse. Bursting like a bubble. Kyungsoo’s stomach swoops. His face heats up, burning at his thoughts, and his heart beats an unsteady, uneven beat. 

Oh. _Oh_. 

_He likes Chanyeol_ , he realizes. His stomach drops. He _likes_ Chanyeol.

And Chanyeol— Chanyeol is looking at Kyungsoo. His eyes are twinkling, and there’s a smile on his face, wide enough that his dimple is showing. Oblivious to Kyungsoo’s thoughts. “Whatever you want, Kyungsoo,” he says. His voice is earnest, but warm. “Whatever you want to do, I’m here to make this happen for you.”

 _Fuck_.  


* * *

  
No one has ever complimented Kyungsoo on his social skills before, and he knows there’s good reason for that. Growing up as a shy, socially awkward _zombie_ did wonders for his self-esteem and ability to connect to others. Baekhyun feels like a fluke at times, and even Yixing would have never entered his life if it weren’t for Baekhyun. 

So it comes as no surprise when Kyungsoo’s immediate response to his _epiphany_ at the paint store is to avoid Chanyeol altogether.

It helps that the hospital decided to switch him to the day shift in the following week, now working from 7:30 am until 5:30 am. By the time he gets home, Chanyeol has already left for the day. It leaves his day a little more dull, but...but it’s better than pining uselessly for something that won’t happen.

“Oh,” Baekhyun says abruptly on Tuesday evening—Kyungsoo’s day off—while they’re seated around Baekhyun’s old wooden table. Yixing’s in the kitchen scraping stir-fried tomato and scrambled egg into a plate.

Kyungsoo raises his eyebrow. “Oh?” He picks off a grain of rice that had stuck onto Baekhyun’s chin, wiping his finger on a napkin. He swears Baekhyun is the most annoying eater. 

Baekhyun is unphased. “Yixing told me something interesting earlier today.” He swivels in his chair, addressing his boyfriend. “Yixing! You should tell Kyungsoo what you told me earlier!” 

Yixing has a blank look on his face, before it brightens up with understanding. He brings the dish over, setting it in the middle of their already overcrowded table, gesturing at them to eat. Kyungsoo serves large spoonfuls to Baekhyun and Yixing first before spooning some of the stir-fried egg onto his own plate. 

“So I went out for drinks with Chanyeol the other day,” Yixing says. The name sends a sudden jolt through Kyungsoo. “First time seeing him in awhile. It was nice catching up.”

Baekhyun is waggling his eyebrows, a wicked grin on his face. Kyungsoo studiously ignores him. “Is that so,” he comments, as noncommittally as possible. Still, he feels himself getting shy, and he wills himself not to blush.

Yixing nods, as pleasantly as ever. “He seemed a little mopey. I wonder why.”

“Yeah! I wonder why!” Baekhyun suddenly interjects, eyes bright. “Apparently he’s been giving Yixing quite the _puppy eyes_ lately.”

Kyungsoo shovels a spoonful of rice into his mouth. His heart flips in his chest. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he forces himself to say, even as his mind runs through a thousand and one questions all at the same time—did something happen? Why was Chanyeol feeling down? 

“Me too,” says Yixing. He slowly chews his food, then he adds, “he did mention your shift at the hospital changed and he hasn’t been able to see you lately.”

Kyungsoo chokes on his food, a grain of rice going down the wrong way. Yixing pats him on the back, just as serene as he was before. “O-Oh,” Kyungsoo says awkwardly. He feels his face heat up. A small ribbon of happiness wraps its way around his heart. 

Evidently impatient, Baekhyun cuts in. “Yeah, and Yixing said that he _barely_ responded before Chanyeol just started rambling on about you!” He waves his chopsticks in the air, the metal clinking together, as if to prove a point. A stray bit of egg that was stuck on the chopstick flies onto the table, and Yixing laughs fondly at his boyfriend, pulling his arm down.

He can’t help it—curiosity wells up in him. “What did he say?” Kyungsoo asks, feigning nonchalance as he grabs more food from the table. He knows he failed when Baekhyun’s smirk turns triumphant.

“He was telling me all about your cooking—”

“—and apparently he _pouted_ when Yixing said he’s had your cooking _plenty_ of times!” Baekhyun says.

Yixing picks up where Baekhyun left off. “He kept talking about how your hoodies are too big for you—” Kyungsoo looks down at the hoodie he’s wearing now, frowning. Was it too big? Did he look like a child playing dress-up? “—and that your hands are too small.” Yixing pauses, and if Kyungsoo didn’t know him better, he would say it was for dramatic effect. “And then he asked if they’re _your_ hoodies or if they’re someone else’s.”

Kyungsoo tilts his head, confused. “Why would I wear someone else’s hoodie? And so many of them?”

“I bet he was trying to ask if you’re single!” Baekhyun yells. Kyungsoo startles, jumping back. Then, Baekhyun’s words process in his mind, and he blushes furiously. 

“No, that sounds unlikely,” Kyungsoo protests, even as his heart does somersaults in his chest. 

Yixing only shrugs, smiling mysteriously. “He also said that your plants are cute.” Kyungsoo takes in a sharp breath, his stomach lurching. Somehow, that gets to him more than anything else—the fact that Chanyeol likes his plants too. He knows he’s in too deep. “He said he likes how your eyes look when you talk about them, you know. And he said your smile is shaped like a heart.”

“So, I’m a plant-obsessed freak with a weird smile,” Kyungsoo says nervously. His face is burning with heat. He pictures Chanyeol saying all these things to Yixing, the way his cheek would be dimpled and his smile toothy and cute. Never before has Kyungsoo ever wanted to just _wilt_ on the floor from how _happy_ it makes him feel. He suppresses the urge to scream into his palms.

Baekhyun shakes his head at his words, tugging on Yixing’s arm with urgency. “Tell him what else he said about Kyungsoo!”

Yixing entangles his hand with Baekhyun, calming him down. “I think anything else should come from Chanyeol himself,” Yixing says. Kyungsoo swears his heart stopped. What else could Chanyeol have said about him? 

Baekhyun pouts, but then it melts into a grin. He sits back triumphantly. “See, I knew we should have introduced Chanyeol and Kyungsoo to each other earlier.” He turns to Yixing. “Babe, you have the best ideas. _I_ have the best ideas. We’re the best, just in general.”

Their PDA is nothing new to Kyungsoo, and he tunes it out easily. His heart beats rapidly in his chest, lost in the thoughts of Chanyeol talking about him. Knowing that Chanyeol is thinking about him too, that Chanyeol actually _enjoys_ his company and might even _potentially_ look forward to talking to him—it leaves him giddy, nearly overcome with a rush of happiness.

Across the table, Baekhyun has a knowing smile on his face. Despite his antics, he knows Kyungsoo more than anyone else. He wouldn’t have brought this up if he didn’t already have an inkling of what Kyungsoo has been feeling. Baekhyun decides to drive the knife home. “You like him, don’t you?” he asks.

Abruptly, Kyungsoo stands up. “I gotta go to the washroom,” he says, avoiding the question. And as dignified as possible, he hurries into Baekhyun’s washroom and shuts the door behind him. It’s only there, a poor facade of privacy behind the closed door, that Kyungsoo finally gives into the urge. He buries his face in his palm, hiding his rosy cheeks behind his hands, and _screams_ , muffled but giddy nonetheless. 

_Chanyeol thinks about him! Chanyeol talks about him!_ He can’t believe it. 

Through the thin walls of Baekhyun’s small apartment, he can still hear the clink of utensils as his friends carry on eating.

“Yep,” he hears Baekhyun say to Yixing. “Kyungsoo likes him.”  


* * *

  
Kyungsoo’s plan of avoiding Chanyeol fails barely two weeks later. If Baekhyun knew, his best friend would have fallen over _laughing_ at him for acting like a teenager with lovesick crush. 

His heart leaps into his throat when he sees Chanyeol’s name on his screen as he’s heading home from work on the following Monday. Him and Chanyeol have texted a few times, but only so far entirely related to the work Chanyeol is doing on his house. While his heart had always fluttered when he saw a text notification from the other man, it’s even worse now when he’s actually aware of _why_.

Grasping onto the bus handle with his left hand, he swipes down on the notification. _hey kyungsoo! sorry to bother you at work but i just wanted to let you know i ended up staying a bit late to finish laying the floor in your living room. im cleaning up now, but wanted to notify you In case you come back and see someone in your home! haha,_ it says.

At the thought that he might see Chanyeol when he returns home, Kyungsoo feels his cheeks heat up. It excites him—just as much as it terrifies him.

He sucks in a deep breath. At least through text, it’s easy to maintain his composure. _No problem_ , Kyungsoo texts back, slow with one hand. _Thank you for your hard work_. 

Chanyeol’s response is immediate. _thank you! you too, kyungsoo!_. A second text follows. _it’s been awhile since i’ve seen you, i hope everything is going well!! ( ˃̣̣̥﹏˂̣̣̥ )_.

It takes Kyungsoo a second to decipher the emoji, and he represses the urge to laugh when he figures it out. It’s horribly endearing, and if Kyungsoo hasn’t gotten to known Chanyeol better over the past month, he would have been surprised by cutesy it is. 

Nonetheless, he texts back with guilt weighing heavy on his heart. It’s his fault, he knows, for avoiding Chanyeol in the first place. _Sorry, been busy with work..._. 

Chanyeol doesn’t respond after that, and Kyungsoo pretends it doesn’t disappointment even a little. 

Chanyeol’s car is still in the driveway when he gets home, just minutes before 7. He nearly bangs his foot into Chanyeol’s toolbox and work bag, sitting just left to the door. The lights in the kitchen and living room are off, but when he switches it on, he can see that the flooring in the living room has finished. He’s hit with amazement—the living room looks completely different already with the remodeled flooring, even with the walls still unpainted. 

“Kyungsoo, you’re home!” he hears Chanyeol’s voice call out, and he startles. His heart skips a beat. The taller man steps out from the hallway a second later. His hair is swept back today and he’s wearing short sleeves with his jacket draped over the crook of his arm. Kyungsoo wills himself not to linger too long at the way his biceps stretch out the shirt. 

He musters a smile, one hand over his chest to calm his racing heart. Chanyeol looks—he looks _good_. “Hi,” he says. He wishes he changed out of his scrubs now, self-conscious of how he looks. At least he touched up his makeup before he left the hospital. 

Chanyeol’s face melts into a happy grin. “How was work?” he asks, shrugging on his jacket. “Sorry I’m leaving a little late today. I worked longer than expected.” He sounds apologetic.

“That’s okay,” Kyungsoo says, biting down on his lip. He looks down at his feet as his stomach flutter with nerves. “You’ve worked hard,” he says quietly. “Thank you.”

His heart stutters when Chanyeol comes closer, patting Kyungsoo on the head gently. “I just want to do a good job for you,” he says, smiling softly. Kyungsoo freezes from the proximity. This close, he can smell his cologne—something woodsy—and something intrinsically _Chanyeol_. 

There’s a pause. And then Chanyeol snatches his hand back, like it’s been burned. “Sorry,” Chanyeol stammers. His cheeks are pink, and it makes Kyungsoo flush in return. “I should get going now—and stop invading your space,” he laughs, sweeping a hand through his hair. Chanyeol heads toward the door, picking up his bag and toolbox easily with one hand despite how heavy they must be. The back of his neck is still tinged with pink.

Suddenly, Kyungsoo doesn’t want to see him leave yet.

“Wait—um —” Kyungsoo falters. Chanyeol pauses, turning back with a confused tilt. Swallowing heavily, Kyungsoo tries again, the words falling out of his mouth before he lets himself second-guess himself. “Do you—do you want to stay for dinner?” As soon as he says it, he feels himself blushing, and he looks down on the ground. 

“I don’t want to trouble you...” Chanyeol says, sounding hesitant. 

Kyungsoo’s heart sinks. “You don’t have to,” he quickly explains. “You probably feel exhausted—that’s okay!” He fidgets with the hem of his shirt, pulling on it nervously. “But um—if you, if you want, I’m about to cook dinner anyway and you worked overtime too...” he trails off. 

“Are you sure?” Chanyeol asks, a strange lilt to his voice. Kyungsoo peeks at him through his lashes. To his surprise, Chanyeol’s face looks rosy too—moreso than before—and he’s biting down a smile. “You really don’t owe me anything! I don’t want to trouble _you_.”

“You’re not troubling me,” Kyungsoo says honestly. He smiles hesitantly at Chanyeol. “You’re welcome to stay. But no pressure!” 

Chanyeol returns his smile, though it seems abashed. “In that case, I would love to stay,” he says. “Only as long as you let me help with the cooking.”

“How do I know you won’t burn down my new kitchen?” Kyungsoo teases, his heart fluttering again. He almost can’t believe that he had the courage to ask Chanyeol to stay longer—and he definitely can’t believe that Chanyeol even wanted to.

Chanyeol sets his belongings down on the floor again. “I’ll build you a new one, in that case.” 

Kyungsoo knows, he _knows_ that Chanyeol probably said it as a joke—but it doesn’t start his heart from beating out of control anyway. 

He’s so screwed.

And he knows it’s true when he can’t stop smiling like an idiot all throughout dinner, or when Chanyeol leaves later that night, only after insisting that he helped washed the dishes, or when Chanyeol sends another text only half an hour later after he has returned home.

_thank you for dinner! it was delicious...and i missed talking to you! sweet dreams, kyungsoo~_

Kyungsoo, with his thick framed glasses on and a face finally washed free of makeup, buries his face in his pillows in embarrassment.  


* * *

  
They begin texting each other after that.

It starts out as a link from Chanyeol showing some photo references of solarium designs for Kyungsoo’s house. Kyungsoo hesitantly gives his input on the kinds of colours he likes, the features he’d like to highlight, the kind of layout he would prefer with his plants. Then, somehow, Kyungsoo finds himself telling Chanyeol about the farmland he grew up on back in the village, and the sense of peace living amongst agriculture and nature left him. 

They don’t text every day, but it becomes a regular enough occurrence. Surprisingly, their conversations continue smoothly even in between the lulls of when Kyungsoo’s stuck at work and Chanyeol’s busy with the house renovations. Chanyeol tends to text more than Kyungsoo does, but Kyungsoo has always been a quiet person both online and offline. Still, Chanyeol doesn’t seem to mind his stilted grammatically correct sentences with punctuation and proper capitalization. He responds just as enthusiastically to Kyungsoo’s text as he would in person, filled with exclamation marks and emojis. 

Their conversations only spiral from there. Chanyeol sends him pictures of Toben, ranting about the acrylic nail he somehow ate off the ground one day, and Kyungsoo returns the sentiment with photos of the dirt strewn across his driveway as he attempts to repot his peace lily. Chanyeol, he notices, likes to share the details about his life; short anecdotes about a funny thing his friend Sehun did over the weekend, the dying plants on his sister’s shelves that has Kyungsoo aching to get his hands on, the burnt piece of toast he received at the cafe.

His favourite texts, though, are the ones where Chanyeol asks how he’s doing and whether he’s eaten yet. Sometimes, they’re accompanied with a selfie of Chanyeol in the solarium that he’s started work on, his plants in the background. Kyungsoo’s embarrassed to admit he saved one of these photos where Chanyeol’s holding up Huchu. The text he sent afterwards said “huchu misses kyungsoo! remember to take a break!” It left him with a smile for the rest of the work day.

There’s something unassuming, yet incredibly intimate with those moments, and Kyungsoo finds himself looking forward to their texts. 

Yet that’s not the only change between them too. More and more often, Chanyeol stays past his normal work hours—late enough that he’s still there when Kyungsoo returns home. As much as the thought of coming home to Chanyeol sets his heart aflutter, the last thing he wants is for Chanyeol to overwork himself.

“You should go home earlier,” Kyungsoo says after the third time it happens, worried about the amount of labour Chanyeol’s doing. “I don’t want you to burn out. And of course I’ll pay you for any additional hours you’re here too.”

“I just want to make sure I’m doing everything right,” Chanyeol explains. He stretches his arms above his head.

Kyungsoo’s eyes automatically snap to the gorgeous sight of his muscles bunching and releasing from the stretch, and the trimness of his waist before he averts his eyes, cheeks pinking with embarrassment. “You should work healthily,” he mumbles in response. “And I know everything you will be perfect regardless. You can take more time on it too, if you want. We’re not in a rush.”

In the end, Chanyeol agrees to not work beyond 8 hours a day—but rather than starting earlier and leaving early, on some days, he begins his day an hour later instead. That meant he would be just wrapping up by the time Kyungsoo returned home in the evening.

It only made sense, then, for Kyungsoo to start cooking dinner for two. 

_I bought stew ingredients. Do you like spice?_ he texts Chanyeol on a Friday. He’s on his way home after a quick stop at the grocery store close to the hospital. It’s their third dinner together that week, and Kyungsoo had been wanting to make his mother’s soybean paste stew recipe ever since Chanyeol said it was his comfort food growing up.

 _i like it but i’m not that good with it ( ˃̣̣̥﹏˂̣̣̥ )_ , Chanyeol responds a few minutes later. 

Kyungsoo hides a smile behind his hand. _How can you call yourself a Korean?_ , he taps out. He hesitates before adding a laughing emoji.

 _waaaah a rare emoji from kyungsoo! today is my special day (ꈍ ᴗ ꈍ)_.

Kyungsoo shakes his head. _Shut up_ , he texts, before adding a few laughing sound effects to show he’s just joking. _I’ll put in two extra chili peppers for you._

The responding text comes only a few seconds later. _then, just because it’s kyungsoo’s cooking, i will do my best to eat everything ♥️_.

His bus stop is the next one, and he presses the button by the window. He catches sight of his own reflection as he does so—and is slammed with how brightly he’s smiling. It makes his face heat up, and he ducks his head down despite being the only passenger remaining on the bus.

Still, he hums to himself as he walks from the bus stop to his house, the grocery bag swinging in his hand. Food always tastes better when it’s shared with someone else.  


* * *

  
“So, what do you think?” Kyungsoo asks, taking anxious sip of water as he studies Chanyeol’s face. The taller man blows on the broth before taking a tentative spoonful. 

His stomach lurches when Chanyeol immediately beams at Kyungsoo, his dimple flashing at him. “God, I might have to introduce you to my mom,” says Chanyeol.

Kyungsoo splutters. His face heats up. “W-What—”

“I should introduce you to my mom,” Chanyeol repeats, shoveling another spoonful of soup into his mouth. “She would love to trade recipes with you, I’m sure. This is _delicious_.” He punctuates the end of his sentence by tapping the metal spoon against the stone bowl.

“O-oh.” Kyungsoo blushes furiously. He feels a strange fuzziness in his stomach at Chanyeol words. “I’m just following my mom’s recipe, really. I don’t know anything about cooking.”

Chanyeol points his spoon at Kyungsoo, frowning. “That’s a lie. You’re amazing.”

He can’t stop the shy smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Kyungsoo scoops up some rice to dunk into his soup. “You cook pretty often too right?”

“Yep,” Chanyeol says, drawing out the last syllable. “Since I live alone! But both my parents are in the restaurant industry, so I go over to my parents’ home for dinner pretty often too on my days off.” 

It’s clear that Chanyeol’s close to his family—a fact that makes Kyungsoo smile. He misses his own family, especially his mom. He makes a note to call her later that night. 

“I bet your cooking tastes delicious too,” Kyungsoo comments. He refills the water in Chanyeol’s cup. “You clearly know your way around a kitchen.” Although Chanyeol typically helps chop and wash ingredients when Kyungsoo cooks, he hasn’t tried Chanyeol’s actual cooking yet.

Chanyeol shakes his head, quirking a smile at Kyungsoo. “I’m okay,” he says, modestly. “I have some dishes that I’m pretty damn good at, if I’m being honest. But otherwise, I’m pretty mediocre.” 

“I want to try your cooking,” Kyungsoo says before he can think about it. When his own words register in his mind, his neck prickles with heat. He hopes Chanyeol doesn’t get weirded out by it. 

Instead, Chanyeol’s smile turns bashful. “You should come over sometime. I’ll cook for us.”

The sight of Chanyeol’s sweet smile does terrible things for Kyungsoo’s heart, breath catching momentarily in his throat. His mind goes blank, and almost desperately, he says the first thing that pops into his mind. “How’s Toben doing?” he asks, trying not to appear as affected as he feels. 

Thankfully, Chanyeol doesn’t seem to notice. “He’s being a menace,” he answers, not without fondness. “He keeps trying to chew on my socks. I have no idea.”

The image of the stubborn puppy attacking Chanyeol’s socks makes him laugh. “He sounds so cute,” says Kyungsoo. “I’ve always wanted a dog.”

“Yeah?” Chanyeol looks at him curiously. “Do you ever plan on adopting one?”

Kyungsoo shrugs, sipping at his soup. “I would love to, but I don’t think I can take care of one alone,” he says, a sad lilt to his lips. “But it’s okay. I have my plants after all.” 

Chanyeol nods with understanding, a thoughtful look on his face. “I was wondering how you started your plant collection, actually.”

His stomach flutters in response to Chanyeol’s interest. “Well, you know about my family’s hobby farm,” he says, fighting a blush at the focused look in Chanyeol’s eyes. He looks down at his bowl. “I always grew up gardening and taking care of our crops. But when I moved out alone to Seoul, I guess I just—I just liked taking care of plants. They’re so much stronger than you’d expect, so much more resilient to change and challenges.” 

Kyungsoo props his chin on his palm, thinking back to how he collected his plants. “A lot of my plants were abandoned and left behind by people that had planned to throw them away. Usually because they think they died or can no longer bloom. Sometimes that _is_ the case—but more often than not, they just need a little nurturing and they grow again.” He smiles. “And when they bloom again—I just can’t help but feel such a sense of amazement, and—um —” Kyungsoo laughs nervously, the tips of his ears growing pink. “I’m rambling, aren’t I? I’m sorry.”

Chanyeol’s quick to shake his head. “No, no, not at all. I love hearing your thoughts, Kyungsoo!” At his words, Kyungsoo’s breath hitches. “Honestly, the more I learn about you, the more I just think you’re incredible. The amount of kindness you show the world, whether they’re plants or people, is just—” he pauses. “— lovely. You’re so lovely.” 

He says it so earnestly, Kyungsoo can feel his stomach swoop. Words get caught in his throat, and he freezes, his stomach doing flips. His heart pounds furiously against his ribcage.

“And the plants, what you say about their resiliency...it reminds me of someone,” says Chanyeol. He smiles, his brown eyes dancing. 

His words feel heavy, somehow, and pointed—but Kyungsoo, he doesn’t know why or _what_ he’s trying to say. That doesn’t stop the giddy warmth in his stomach as he looks up at Chanyeol, at his beautiful smile and handsome face.

“I—um —” Kyungsoo ducks his head. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, even as he tries to suppress the urge to hide behind his hands. “Um, I—that makes me really happy to hear. Thank you, Chanyeol.” He looks back up again, locking eyes with the taller man. The air between them feels warm, but it’s cozy, rather than heated and tense. “Thank you.”  


* * *

  
“I love you,” he says. “Most ardently.” 

Behind him, Baekhyun sighs wistfully, his breath fanning over the nape of Kyungsoo’s neck. Kyungsoo squirms out of Baekhyun’s hold, stretching his arm out to reach the bowl of popcorn on the floor, popping a few kernels into his mouth. He shifts back into Baekhyun’s arms, and his best friend instinctively wraps his leg around him. On screen, Mr. Darcy continues his confession to Elizabeth Bennet. 

“I liked the unnecessary lake scene in the TV series more,” Kyungsoo mumbles, eyes still rapturedly following the movie playing on his television. “I never felt attracted to a white man until that moment.” He pauses. “That was probably the only moment, actually.”

Baekhyun shushes him, squeezing his arms tighter around him. It’s the first time Baekhyun has been able to visit Kyungsoo’s house since the early days of him moving in. They used to do this a lot—cuddle and watch movies together—but its been awhile since the last time they could do this. He’s missed this, just spending time with his best friend. 

When the end credits start the roll, Baekhyun unravels himself from where he’s wrapped around Kyungsoo and helps bring their smorgasbord of snacks into the kitchen. “I can’t believe how different the kitchen looks now,” he says, studying the newly painted white cabinets. “You only replaced the countertops and cabinets?”

Kyungsoo taps his finger on the backsplash behind the stove. “The backsplash too. And the flooring as well, I guess.”

Baekhyun lets out a low whistle. “It looks amazing, Kyungsoo. Like a completely different place.”

The renovations are nearly complete. The interiors feel brighter now, with the new coat of paint, and the fixed floorings leave him less claustrophobic. No longer does the house feel decrepit and broken. With some convincing from Baekhyun, he even purchased a few paintings to place on the walls, and more plants too. 

“It’s Chanyeol’s work, really,” Kyungsoo says, shaking his head. He ducks, a little embarrassed. “And I’m privileged to even be able to afford all this too.” 

There are small touches of Chanyeol here and there too. The fir green pillows lining his couch were his pick, as well as the soft hand-knitted throw blanket that’s neatly folded over the back of the loveseat. At the homeware store, Chanyeol had insisted on buying Kyungsoo a poodle plush toy too because it looked like Toben, but Kyungsoo had to put his foot down even if it made his heart flutter.

His house looks _lived in_. Cozy. 

Over the back of one of the dining table chairs is an oversized purple hoodie. Chanyeol had left it behind two weeks ago and has forgotten to take it home with him ever since. The sight of it makes him heart pound a little, a reminder of how much time they seem to spend together now, and he avoids looking at it. Sometimes, rather than being able to sense imminent death as a banshee, Kyungsoo wonders if Baekhyun has an innate sense of when he’s bullshitting. 

Like now. Baekhyun pinches the sleeve of the hoodie curiously, before looking up at Kyungsoo with a devilish smirk on his face. “Speaking of Chanyeol,” he says, slowly. The smirk widens. “How are you two doing? Yixing said his tail is basically wagging whenever he talks about you.”

Kyungsoo hides his blush by turning to rinse the dishes under warm water. “The house is almost finished,” he says instead. He knows Baekhyun isn’t asking about that. “I only have to finish repainting the solarium. We got new lighting units and shelves for my plants though. And installed a door that allows more sunlight too.”

Behind him, he can make Baekhyun sigh resignedly. Kyungsoo lets out a breath of relief—he knows Baekhyun won’t press him for more. 

“That’s pretty fast,” Baekhyun says, sounding surprised. “How long has it been? A month and a half?”

He turns off the faucet, wiping his hands dry on a soft kitchen towel hanging on the dishwasher door. “Almost three months,” he corrects. 

“Wasn’t it supposed to be shorter than that?” asks Baekhyun, picking at some of the leftover popcorn in the bowl. He pops a few in his mouth, chewing noisily.

Kyungsoo pokes him. “Chew quietly,” he scolds. “And yeah. I originally was just going to go with basic renovations but I kept feeling inspired by Chanyeol’s work. That’s why we’re rebuilding the solarium too.”

“Is that going to cost more?” 

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo admits. “But Chanyeol’s slashing some of the costs from the invoice, I’m pretty sure. It’s cheaper than I thought.” He feels guilty about it, and has insisted a few times on paying Chanyeol more for his work. The taller man always refuses, citing the dinners as more than sufficient.

Baekhyun hums, waggling his eyebrows. “Interesting. He has a soft spot for you, huh.”

“Shut up,” Kyungsoo says, poking Baekhyun in the tummy. “Stop teasing me.”

His best friend makes a small _oof_ noise before grabbing his hand and pulling Kyungsoo’s arms around him. Long accustomed to Baekhyun’s touchiness, Kyungsoo folds himself into Baekhyun’s arms.

“I’ll stop teasing you,” Baekhyun says. His breath ruffles the short hairs on the back of Kyungsoo’s neck. “But you know I’m happy for you right? I think you two are good for each other. Yixing tells me Chanyeol has seemed happier too. Apparently all he does is talk about you. And don’t think I haven’t noticed that smile on your face lately.”

Kyungsoo’s blush deepens. His heart skips a beat at Baekhyun’s words. “Stop,” Kyungsoo says, his face burning. Almost as if against his will, a silly grin tugs at the corner of his lips and he closes his eyes, burying his nose in the crook of Baekhyun’s shoulder in embarrassment. He doesn’t worry about smudging his foundation on Baekhyun’s shirt for once; his best friend is the only person outside his family that he’s comfortable with being natural. 

Baekhyun laughs, his body shaking. He smooths one hand over Kyungsoo’s hair. “I’ll stop, I’ll stop,” he coos. “For now.”  


* * *

  
Kyungsoo bids Baekhyun goodbye in the early evening, sending him off with two tupperware full of stir-fried noodles. He’s still washing the pan when his phone suddenly vibrates with a call. Chanyeol’s caller ID pops up. The pan nearly slips out of his fingers, and he breathes out slowly as he tries to steady his heartbeat. Quickly, Kyungsoo turns the tap off and wipes his hand dry. He picks up.

“Kyungsoo!” Chanyeol’s voice chirps on the other hand. Kyungsoo feels his heart stutter.

“Hi,” Kyungsoo breathes. He wasn’t expecting a call from Chanyeol. 

“Sorry to call out of nowhere—are you busy right now?” Chanyeol asks. Faintly, he can make out the sound of traffic and the familiar ticking noise of a turn signal. He must be driving at the moment. 

Kyungsoo glances at the time. It’s half past eight. “No,” he says to Chanyeol, a little cautiously. “I’m at home right now. Baekhyun just left, actually.”

“I’m— I’m actually in the area,” Chanyeol says sheepishly. Kyungsoo’s heart jolts at his sentence. “I actually have a bit of a surprise for you. Would I be able to come over?”

Panicking, Kyungsoo looks down at himself and his ratty sweatpants. And his face! He’s not wearing makeup or his lenses. “Now?” he asks. He feels a burgeoning hysteria well up. 

“Would that be okay?” Chanyeol says hesitantly. “If you’re tired, don’t worry! It’s not urgent, just something I thought you’d like!” 

Clipping his phone between his ear and his shoulder, Kyungsoo scrambles hurriedly up the stairs, not even bothering to take off his house slippers. “How far are you still?” Kyungsoo asks, a little frantically. He can’t face Chanyeol like this.

“About 15 minutes still,” Chanyeol responds. “Is everything okay?” His voice sounds concerned. “It’s not a worry if now’s not a go—”

“— _no_ — I mean, um, it’s fine!” Kyungsoo cuts in. He pauses. Chanyeol must be so confused by his erratic behaviour, he realizes, closing his eyes and swearing internally. He takes in a deep breath, steadying himself. “I just—I need to change. Come over, I’m not doing anything right now,” he explains.

After a moment of silence, Chanyeol responds. “I’ll see you soon then?” 

Kyungsoo’s heart flutters. “I’ll see you soon,” he affirms. 

When Chanyeol hangs up, Kyungsoo hurriedly slips in his contacts, blinking unsteadily from the initial discomfort. He applies his bb cream and tint as carefully as he can, given his rush, and changes into a pair of jeans. The long-sleeve shirt he has on doesn’t smell or have any stains, and he keeps it on.

The bell rings not a second later. Kyungsoo’s heart leaps into his throat, and he exhales slowly, checking himself over one more time before scrambling down the stairs to open the door. Chanyeol’s standing on his doorstep, bundled in a dark grey sweater that looks soft to the touch. His hair is fluffy and unstyled, falling into his handsome face. At the sight of Kyungsoo, his mouth tugs into an excited smile. It has only been a few days since Kyungsoo has seen Chanyeol, but like a lovesick fool, he feels riveted by the sight of him—the sight of his dimple, his soft hair, his handsome smile. 

There’s a sudden bark, disrupting his dazed thoughts, and Kyungsoo jumps in surprise. He looks down to see a small black poodle wagging his tail, looking up at him with his tongue lolling out to the side. 

Kyungsoo gasps, immediately enamoured with the small puppy. “Is this— is this Toben?” he asks Chanyeol. 

Chanyeol nods, reaching down to pat Toben’s curly fur. The dog bumps his head into his hand, demanding more pets. “Tobennie, meet Kyungsoo! Kyungsoo, meet Toben,” he coos. He gently picks up Toben’s paw, waving it at Kyungsoo. The puppy barks eagerly, straining on the leash towards Kyungsoo.

His heart melts. Kyungsoo squats down, scratching under Toben’s chin. The dog pants happily, his tail wagging wildly. Toben licks at his face, and Kyungsoo laughs, ruffling his fluffy fur. Fondness comes over him at the sight of the excitable puppy. “He’s even cuter than in pictures,” he says, smiling up at Chanyeol. 

There’s a gobsmacked expression on Chanyeol’s face, his eyes lingering on the bottom half of Kyungsoo’s face. Belatedly, Chanyeol’s eyes snap back up, as if jolted by live wire. His face schools back into a more neutral expression before Chanyeol preens, looking proud at the compliment. “Isn’t he cute? He’s the worst though. A total brat.”

Kyungsoo admires Toben for a few moments, patting the fluffy fur around his face with his palms. “Don’t listen to Chanyeollie,” he coos. “You’re the bestest boy aren’t you?” The puppy barks happily, as if in agreement, and a giggle slips past his lips.

He looks back up to find Chanyeol watching him, smiling indulgently. Kyungsoo’s heart flutters at the soft expression on his face. “Sorry,” Kyungsoo apologizes, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden. “Do you want to come in?”

“I would love to! Um, if that’s okay with you, I mean,” Chanyeol says, glancing down at Toben. The puppy cocks his head at his owner before letting out another bark. 

Kyungsoo shakes his head and laughs. “For Toben? Anything is okay.” Chanyeol pouts in response, but he doesn’t complain when Kyungsoo opens the door wider to let them both in. 

By now, Chanyeol navigates his house with ease. In his hand is a white plastic bag that Kyungsoo hadn’t noticed before, the faint silhouette of a styrofoam take-out container just barely visible. He places it on the entryway table. Chanyeol shucks his shoes off, lining them neatly on the shoe rack that they bought a few weeks ago. 

Toben weaves around his legs in excitement, nearly tripping Chanyeol as the leash tangles around him. “Do you need some help?” Kyungsoo asks, not hiding his amusement as Chanyeol lets out a curse. He kneels on the floors and scrubs a hand through Toben’s fur before unraveling Chanyeol from his predicament. “He can go leashless, I don’t mind.”

“Thank you,” Chanyeol says, an endearing rosy glow on his cheeks. He unclips the leash and shoves it in his pocket. Toben takes the opportunity to dash through the house, his tiny paws pattering on the floor, as he explores every nook and cranny. 

Kyungsoo doesn’t know when it first happened, but him and Chanyeol always share a pot of tea whenever the taller man is over at his house. It scares him a little, that this is just one of their many shared rituals that have built up since Chanyeol began working for him. 

He goes to put the kettle on, moving almost by instinct. “Tea?” he asks, like always. 

“Please,” Chanyeol responds, like clockwork. He follows him to the kitchen, leaning up against the counter while Kyungsoo digs into his tea cabinet for their favourite tea—a blend of roasted green tea with puffed rice. He prepares the strainer as he waits for the water to boil. 

There’s a quiet clink behind him, two mugs being set down on the counter. Kyungsoo hides a smile as he picks up one of them—a little cacti-shaped mug that Chanyeol bought him. It’s his usual mug. 

Chanyeol has his own designated mug too. It’s a plain black mug with a simple treble clef painted onto it. Kyungsoo picked it up one day after work. He likes the sight of them now, sitting side by side. 

He turns back to Chanyeol, who’s shutting the door to the dishware cabinet. “So what’s the surprise?” Kyungsoo asks.

“Oh, um.” Chanyeol leans back against the counter, looking down at Kyungsoo. “Actually, Toben was the surprise...” he trails off, looking sheepish.

“Toben?” Kyungsoo says, taken aback, before he laughs. “Toben’s the surprise?”

The kettle shuts off to signify that the water has finished boiling, and Chanyeol reaches over to make the tea before Kyungsoo has a chance to move. 

“Toben’s the surprise,” Chanyeol repeats, shaking his head with a laugh of his own. He carries the teapot over to the dining table. Kyungsoo picks up their mugs and follows behind. “You mentioned wanting a dog before, and I’ve been showing you so many photos of Toben, I thought you would want to meet him!”

“At 8pm in the evening?” Kyungsoo asks. He shoots Chanyeol a playful look through his lashes, biting down a smile when Chanyeol flushes. 

“I was in the area,” Chanyeol protests weakly. He pours tea into Kyungsoo’s mug before filling his own up. “I thought it would be nice.”

Kyungsoo blows on his tea to cool it down, before taking a tentative sip. The warmth rolls through him. It’s comforting. “And here I was hoping for a present,” he teases. 

Chanyeol looks affronted. “I’m— my _presence_ is a gift,” he says, mock-offended.

Kyungsoo hums. “Is it?” he says. He quirks an eyebrow up, flattening his expression. 

“Wh— you should be _honoured_ I deigned you with my presence tonight,” says Chanyeol. He sniffs, pointing his nose in the air.

The look of playful outrage on Chanyeol’s face is too much for Kyungsoo, and he laughs, a warm fondness welling inside of him, blossoming in his chest, breathing into his lungs. “No, but really, you’re welcome here any time,” Kyungsoo says. “Especially if you bring Toben over.”

“I see my presence matters less than my dog’s,” Chanyeol retorts with a mock-pout, but his eyes are twinkling and a silly grin tugs the corner of his lips upwards. 

As if summoned, Toben bounds towards them, his tongue lolling out and black fur bouncing from the momentum. He skids to a stop in front of Kyungsoo, letting out a bark. Big, black eyes stare pleadingly up at him. Helpless to his charm, Kyungsoo immediately scratches his neck. Toben’s tail wags excitedly.

Chanyeol lets out a dramatic sigh. “Great, even my dog likes you more than me.” But he reaches out to pet Toben too, scratching the space on his forehead between his ears. 

Once satisfied with their petting, Toben loses interest in them once again in favour of sniffing around the living room, his tail still wagging wildly in happiness.

For a moment, Kyungsoo watches him fondly, melting at the sight of the fluffy dog bounding around his house. When he turns back to Chanyeol, the taller man is staring at him, a strange look on his face. Their eyes lock. Somehow, the look in Chanyeol’s eyes seem intense—focused in the same way that Kyungsoo has seen him get when he confides in Kyungsoo about his worries with work, or the milestones he hopes to reach over the next few years. Like there’s something on his mind, something he wants to say, but is worried about— _something_. 

“Chanyeol?” he asks, voice quiet as if it would dispel the moment if he were to speak to loud. “Is everything okay?”

There’s a pensive look on Chanyeol’s face before it softens, melting off him. “Kyungsoo,” he says. The syllables of his name sound weighted on Chanyeol’s tongue, like he’s saying it as carefully as possible. His heart races. “Kyungsoo, do you want to go out for dinner sometime?” 

Kyungsoo’s breath flees from him. There’s an impossibly warm expression on Chanyeol’s face, and it sends his heart into flutters. “D-Dinner?”

Chanyeol bites his lip before nodding. “At a restaurant. I—uh—I would love to treat you to something nice.” 

“Me?” Kyungsoo breathes, his eyes widening. His heart pounds so hard against his chest, he wonders if Chanyeol can hear it too. His face heats up. 

“With you.” Chanyeol smiles, as if he can’t help it. “Whenever you want.”

Kyungsoo feels dimly aware that his mug of tea is growing cold, untouched. He can faintly hear Toben sniffing around, playing with something in the living room. He feels the warmth on his face. But none of it fully registers—his attention riveted and stuck completely on Chanyeol. 

Chanyeol’s face is open, if a little nervous. He’s tapping his fingers against the mug, and biting down on his bottom lip. His hair is tousled, and his sweater has a crease by the hemline that Kyungsoo didn’t notice before. Chanyeol is the most beautiful man he’s ever met.

And then it’s like the words pour out of his mouth before he can stop it, his heart pattering in his chest. He feels a rush of excitement—and it feels a little like adrenaline, he thinks. “I would love to,” Kyungsoo answers at last. He smiles, shy, but sure. “I would love to go, Chanyeol.”

And Chanyeol’s answering smile is breathtaking.  


* * *

  
Kyungsoo hums under his breath as he scans the glass displays eagerly. He realizes a second later that he’s humming the song that Chanyeol had played for him on Saturday, a soft acoustic melody that he liked. 

His cheeks pinken, and he shakes his head, focusing instead on the spread of decadent cakes. The sweet aroma of pastries is rich in the air, and Kyungsoo’s mouth salivates. 

A round-faced woman in a checkered apron approaches him. “May I help you with anything?” she asks. Her name tag reads _Kang Seulgi_. 

Kyungsoo feels a sliver of trepidation—as he always does when speaking to strangers. “Um, do you have any recommendations for your roll cakes?” he asks, pointing at the row of smaller, fluffy log-shaped cakes in one corner of the display case.

Seulgi nods enthusiastically, gesturing at a cake luxuriously decorated with swirls of matcha cream on top. “Our matcha raspberry roll cake is our most popular. It has a delicious raspberry center and the flavour combination of the matcha cuts through the sweetness nicely.” She points to another cake, this time with coconut flakes sprinkled along the top. “Our kaya roll cake is made with mango and coconut whipped ganache. It’s a little more dense.”

They both look delicious. Chanyeol had mentioned before that his favourite fruit was mango, so Kyungsoo chooses the kaya cake roll. After Kyungsoo pays for the cake, Seulgi carefully packages it in a box and ties a neat ribbon around it. 

He heads back to the bus stop with the cake in hand. His phone informs him that it’s half past 5 PM. It’ll take him about another hour before he gets home—which should be enough time for him to change out of his scrubs, touch up his makeup, and then meet up Chanyeol for their... _date_.

The thought sends giddiness through Kyungsoo, and he bites down on his lip to stop himself from smiling. He thinks back towards Saturday, remembers Chanyeol’s warm smile and the twinkle in his eyes as they made their plans. Kyungsoo has work most days of the week, Tuesday and Saturday being his two days off, and so they decided to have dinner today, on Monday evening, instead. 

Chanyeol had offered to pick Kyungsoo up at the hospital after work today, but Kyungsoo wanted a chance to surprise Chanyeol with a cake too. Though he didn’t have time to buy one, he knew the bakery was one that Yoora liked. Chanyeol had mentioned it a few weeks prior. He doesn’t know where they will be going for dinner tonight, but for once in his life, Kyungsoo has no doubts. He knows it will go well. 

He is startled out of his thoughts by the arrival of the bus. Luckily, he’s able to snatch the last available seat the back. The days are getting colder now, the air more brisk and the clouds looming above. Winter is settling in, and the trees lining the roads are growing barer each day. 

Kyungsoo’s stunned to realize that the winter no longer feels as lonesome as it once did. When he pictures his home, it’s no longer to an apartment that felt violated and unsafe. He pictures the house that Chanyeol built, with its warm blankets and plush pillows and beautiful plants. He pictures his solarium, with its large windows and the beautiful glass door that leads directly into his yard. They just installed golden lights and hanging baskets yesterday, a comforting glow that illuminates his plants. He pictures Chanyeol, and sharing a meal and a cup of tea with him.

If anything, he’s ready to spend winter _with_ Chanyeol. Slowly, he’s starting to believe that Chanyeol might want that too.

The bus ride feels like it takes a shorter time than usual. He’s the only one to get off at the stop right on the outskirts of a thachet of woods, but the silence is welcomed today. Kyungsoo cradles the cake closely in his arms, careful not to jostle it too much as he walks through the woods and along the empty stretch of road that leads to his home. 

There’s a new moon tonight, its brightness a beautiful marker amidst the dark night skies. He can see his house just coming up ahead now, and he marvels at how the sight of the lone house with the large driveway strikes a sense of familiarity and comfort in him now.

He’s just unlocking the front door when he hears the rumble of an engine behind him. Kyungsoo turns around. It’s Chanyeol, pulling up in his car. He’s a little early—and despite his earlier worries about not looking _presentable_ in time for dinner, he feels excitement well up inside him at the sight of Chanyeol.

Once Chanyeol cuts the engine, Kyungsoo waited for the other man to step out. It didn’t take long, and a second later, the car door swings open and Chanyeol steps out. 

Kyungsoo’s breath catches in his throat. Chanyeol’s wearing a neatly-pressed button down and a pair of well-fitting dark jeans. His hair has been styled today in gentle waves pushed back from his forehead. The starlight seems to bathe him in a silvery glow. He looks ethereal.

“Hi,” he says, feeling a little shy. “Sorry I haven’t changed yet—I just got home. I got you a little gift though!” he said, lifting the box in his arms before lowering it again.

“Hi,” Chanyeol says, a small, fond smile on his face. “That’s okay, I’m a little early. Take your time.”

Kyungsoo takes a step back to open the door. “Do you want to come in first? I won’t be long,” he promises.

Chanyeol’s eyes twinkle when he laughs. It makes Kyungsoo’s stomach flutter. “Okay,” he says, before opening his mouth as if to say more. But then Chanyeol’s mouth falls closed, and he suddenly stills in place. To Kyungsoo’s confusion, the smile drops off of Chanyeol’s face. 

“Chanyeol?” Kyungsoo says, hesitantly. Chanyeol doesn’t respond. He takes a small step forward. But Chanyeol only cocks his head to the side, as if listening for something. He’s no longer looking at Kyungsoo, but instead towards the house.

And then—a chill goes down Kyungsoo’s spine. There’s a look on Chanyeol’s face, one that he’s never seen before. His eyebrows are furrowed, teeth bared. It—it looks like a snarl. 

Kyungsoo takes a worried step forward. “Chanyeol...?” 

His heart pounds against his ribcage as he fears the worst. Whatever has caused Chanyeol to react this way, he knows it’s nothing good. 

Kyungsoo lifts a hesitant hand up to tug on Chanyeol’s elbow, when there’s a blur of movement and Chanyeol suddenly takes off. He nearly screams, almost tripping over himself in his haste to step back. At first, he thinks Chanyeol ran off away from him—but then his mind catches up. No, Chanyeol sprinted in the direction of his yard, wrapping around the side of the house towards the back. 

A second later, Kyungsoo starts to chase after him. Chanyeol’s already gone from sight—running much faster than Kyungsoo had expected —but his face set in an angry, nasty snarl has imprinted on Kyungsoo’s mind.

His heartbeat pounds in his ears, loud enough to be overwhelming. The backyard has no lights, leaving him with no choice but to run almost blindly in the darkness. Faintly, he can finally make out Chanyeol’s tall silhouette up ahead, seemingly having no troubles navigating through the dark. Kyungsoo feels lost, confused—even more so when he realizes that Chanyeol is heading to the back of the house. Chanyeol’s running too fast, faster than Kyungsoo thought was possible, he’s not sure if he’ll be able to catch up—

Suddenly, Chanyeol skids to a stop. Unprepared, Kyungsoo nearly runs into his back from the abrupt movement. The moonlight isn’t nearly bright enough to illuminate the yard, but he realizes a second later that they’re standing right in front of his new glass doors that open into the solarium. 

He sucks in a lungful of air, trying to catch his breath. Kyungsoo feels jittery, his nerves lighting up with anxiety. In front of him, Chanyeol is unmoving. 

Kyungsoo moves closer. “Chanyeol?” he calls out, softly. “What happe—” He freezes. His blood runs cold.

Oh.

 _Oh_.

There’s a low rumbling noise, but he barely processes it. Not when he can now see what’s happening in front of him.

The door to his solarium has been broken into. The lock is busted open, the glass doors forced open. With his pounding heart and the adrenaline from chasing after Chanyeol, he hadn’t noticed it earlier—but now he can. The distinct voices of footsteps, of something smashing, of laughter. 

Kyungsoo flinches. There’s a loud crash, the distinct noise of something fragile violently splintering into pieces, followed by sound of two voices cheering. He takes a step forward, his hands falling to his side as he lets go of the cake box. It falls to the ground unnoticed. The rumbling noise gets louder, more aggressive, until it sounds almost like a growl—but he ignores it, passing Chanyeol, his eyes fixated on the large glass windows of his solarium. His eyes adjust to the darkness.

Inside his solarium are two figures. He can’t tell who they are at first, but then one of them—the taller one—turns to survey the room. With a sinking feeling, he recognizes their faces. He recognizes the sneer on the shorter man’s face, his cropped hair, and the sloped eyes of the taller man. They used to live in his apartment building. The one that was broken into, so many months ago. 

He had never spoken to them in the eight months he had lived there, Kyungsoo recalls. After his first day of living in the complex and coming home to see his cookies trashed, he never tried speaking to any of his neighbours. He doesn’t understand why they’re here— _how_ they found his house—but he recognizes them. 

They’re both wearing thick boots and gloves. The taller man is carrying a baseball bat in one hand. There’s something in the shorter man’s hand too, but Kyungsoo can’t quite make out what it is. Surrounding them are broken, jagged pieces of clay and porcelain scattered on his floor. Torn leaves and scattered branches are strewn about the place. His succulents lay smashed on the ground, and his peace lily has been overturned. He can’t see Meokmul or Huchu anywhere. They’re no longer on their shelves.

They’re destroying his solarium, Kyungsoo realizes. A chilling horror slices through him. His stomach drops. Suddenly, it feels difficult to breathe. They’re ripping apart his plants. They’re _killing_ them. 

The taller one says something to his friend, Kyungsoo can’t hear them from his distance, but it doesn’t matter when the shorter man grins, nasty and mean, and turns away from where Kyungsoo is standing, to face the closed door that leads into the interiors of Kyungsoo’s house. He raises his arm, shaking the object in his home vigorously before he holds it up to the wooden door. There’s a sound, like pressure being released from a valve, and a thick stripe of blood-red paint is sprayed onto the door. Belatedly, Kyungsoo realizes it’s a spray paint can. 

It all happens in slow motion, or so it feels to Kyungsoo’s mounting horror. The short man’s arms are steady, unshaking, as it traces out the letter ‘R’ with the spray paint, the red ink running down the pristine door like dripping blood. Kyungsoo knows immediately what he’s writing. 

Rotter.

Kyungsoo breathes in. A shuddering breath, like his lungs aren’t quite working properly. He can’t look away from the sight before him. He takes everything in. The ruined door, his plants scattered across the floor, clay and ceramic everywhere, the destroyed solarium. His solarium. His and Chanyeol’s. This was their creation, their vision, together. This was theirs. And they ruined it. 

All of a sudden, an overwhelming sense of rage comes over him. His breath comes out juddery and quick, and he grits his teeth to try to gain some control over himself. But it’s no use. His fists clench reflexively. There’s a pounding pressure in his head, it feels like it’s growing, expanding, filling the inside of his skull until it feels like his head is going to explode. His vision turns white at the edges. He can hear the sound of heavy, nearly feral, breathing—and distantly, he recognizes that it’s coming from _him_. Never before has he felt such an all-consuming rage. Not even back when he had protected Baekhyun from his bullies, because that was tinged with fear. Never something as encompassing as this. 

Kyungsoo takes one step forward, his hands balled into fists. He takes another. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do—but the rage builds up, and up, saliva pools in his mouth, and —

And then something darts in front of Kyungsoo—and it’s a wolf. A wolf with strikingly grey fur, thick muscles coiled in its hind legs and a robust body that Kyungsoo instantly knows it means it’s powerful. It’s _monstrous_ , easily reaching Kyungsoo’s chest even on four legs. The shock snaps him out of his reverie, and he stills, falling back unsteadily as his vision returns back to normal. The anger releases from him in waves, leaving him panting as he regains control over himself again.

The wolf is growling. He realizes, only in that moment, that that was the source of the low rumbling from before. The wolf stalks forward, steady and measured, eyes raptured on the two men still obliviously destroying his solarium, cold eyes tracking their movements as if prey to predator. Its sharp fangs are bared, face set in a vicious snarl. It looks hungry. Ready to pounce. And Kyungsoo can’t look away, a dawning horror chilling his bones and holding him in place as the wolf tracks the two men in the house. Distantly, he realizes that it must be Chanyeol. It has to be him. 

The wolf— _Chanyeol_ —stalks forward. A branch snaps underneath one massive paw, finally drawing the attention of the two men in the solarium. 

It unfolds in slow motion to Kyungsoo, panic thrumming heavy in his veins, rooting him to place. He watches in horror as their heads snap towards the noise. He can’t move, not even when Chanyeol stills in front of him, his hind legs tensed, ready to pounce. He doesn’t know who screams, whether it’s the both of them, but the one holding the spray paint drops it on the ground. It clatters to the floor. Their eyes are fixated on the massive wolf. It’s as if they can’t even see Kyungsoo. The short man scrabbles for the door handle, for the door that would take them inside to the rest of Kyungsoo’s house. But it’s his friend, the one holding the baseball bat, that moves first—panic driving him to run to the closest exit. 

And it’s like the sudden movement has caused something in Chanyeol to _snap_ , and the wolf lets out a blood curdling howl before it lunges for the tall man, his teeth bared, ready to _kill_ — and Kyungsoo’s body, before he even realizes it, moves on its own. 

“Chanyeol, _no_!” he screams, throwing himself forward, wrapping an arm around Chanyeol’s neck. Later, he’ll realize how stupid, how dangerous it is, but for now, his body moves on instinct. His arms can’t even wrap around Chanyeol entirely—he’s too big, too strong—and he feels the wolf tense underneath him, trying lunging with a growl. He grits his teeth, holding on for dear life. It feels like his arms are going to wrench out of its sockets with the effort of restraining Chanyeol, and he knows that if it weren’t for his own unnatural strength, he would have been sent flying.

Wisely, the two men take the opportunity to escape, and they sprint out the broken door and back around the house. He’s not sure how they got here in the first place, or how they’re leaving, but it doesn’t matter. His arms strain as Chanyeol lunges forward again, howling ferociously, trying to chase after them, but he holds him back, shaking like a leaf but desperate all the same. They don’t look back.

It takes awhile for Chanyeol to calm back down, the wolf seemingly determined to chase after them. His ears remain perked, and Kyungsoo realizes that he can probably still hear them. It explained his strange behaviour when they were in the driveway. With his hearing, he heard the two men destroying his solarium, and had reacted. 

All of a sudden, it hits Kyungsoo all at once. Adrenaline is still running through his veins, but then his body slumps and he falls to his knees, abruptly exhausted. He looks at the remnants of his solarium. The ground is covered in soil and plants and broken pieces of his pots, like ashes scattered carelessly to the wind. 

Something cold and wet nudges his arms. Chanyeol’s handsome brown eyes stare back at him. The snarl is gone from his face, as is the feral look in his eyes, but it doesn’t make the wolf look any less terrifying. Kyungsoo finds he has no energy to feel—anything. He feels terrifyingly numb. 

He thinks back to all the time him and Chanyeol had spent on building the solarium. He remembers how Chanyeol had sent him a picture of lighting fixtures from the lighting store, and said he thought it would look good in the solarium. And he was right. But now it’s gone. The shelves they built. The plants he nurtured. All gone. Broken.

The wolf shifts closer to him. His fur emanates warmth, and is soft to the touch when he gently nuzzles Kyungsoo’s face. Despite his size and power, he lets out a pleading whine, almost as if he’s worried about Kyungsoo. 

And that’s just another thing isn’t it? Chanyeol’s a wolf. A _werewolf_. In retrospect, it was so obvious—his friendship with Yixing, how long they’ve known each other. They’re in the same _pack_. He knows well enough that werewolves, despite being one of the most revered species in society, also face some of the strictest regulations. If Chanyeol had actually chased after them, or even if they report him _now_ , he could be facing severe legal ramifications. But he had done so anyway—to protect Kyungsoo.

His heart feels heavy. “I could have protected myself you know,” whispers Kyungsoo. The words fall out of his mouth like stones. “You could— that could have been really bad, Chanyeol.” And it’s true. As a zombie, Kyungsoo’s _strong_. He had nearly slipped into berserk too, an anger-inducing rage that left zombies in their original state—primal, hungry, and mindless. 

Chanyeol lets out a snuffle, nudging Kyungsoo with his nose again. Kyungsoo barely registers the feeling. 

“Why did they do this?” Kyungsoo asks, staring at the mess in front of him. His heart hurts. “I just— I just wanted to go on that date with you. I wanted to share the cake with you. I wanted to see you smile, and laugh when you made jokes.” Embarrassingly, Kyungsoo feels the back of his eyes burn with unshed tears. He shuts his eyes. Chanyeol whines again, nudging his arm once more. “I just— I don’t understand. What did I _do_?” 

He’s tried not to let it get to him—the hate he received simply for existing. He tried not to let it affect him, to intrude on his thoughts when they had intruded in his apartment. But all of a sudden, he _can’t_. He just _can’t_ — and all the bone-weary exhaustion he had felt since moving to Seoul suddenly crashes down upon him.

A droplet of moisture falls on his arms. A second one follows, and then a third. And another. Chanyeol lets out a distressed sound, unbefitting of his massive size, licking at Kyungsoo’s face as if he were a puppy rather than a wolf. He’s— he’s _crying_. 

And then it’s like he can’t stop; somehow, it’s as if a dam has broken. Tears finally spilled onto his cheeks, his breath coming out fast and erratic. He feels a strange emptiness in his heart. It hurts. _Oh god_ , he thinks, his hands wiping desperately at the tears that won’t stop. _Why does it hurt so much_. 

Chanyeol whines again, licking away some of Kyungsoo’s tears. The next second, the wolf disappears, leaving behind Chanyeol—in all his limbs and broad shoulder and handsome face—standing in his stead. 

“Kyungsoo,” he says, his voice soft, broken. Chanyeol reaches out to Kyungsoo, wrapping his big, strong arms around the smaller man. He’s nude, but it barely registers in Kyungsoo’s mind as his breath hitches, gritting his teeth against his tears. “Kyungsoo,” he says again.

Kyungsoo chokes on his next sob. “Chanyeol,” he whispers. His eyes are wide and glassy. “Chanyeol, what did I do that was so wrong?”

Chanyeol’s face crumbles, and he cradles Kyungsoo close to him. He rocks him back and force, his large hand rubbing soothing circles on Kyungsoo’s back. “Shh, shh,” he murmurs, the other hand stroking through Kyungsoo’s hair. “You did nothing wrong. I promise.” His words come out strained, as if strangled by emotion. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you better. I’m sorry I couldn’t save our solarium. I’m— I’m so sorry...” he trails off.

It only makes Kyungsoo cry harder. He buries his face in Chanyeol’s chest. He feels flayed apart—ripped apart at the seams. After all that felt like it was going right for the first time since he moved here, it was destroyed. All in minutes.

“I’ll fix this,” Chanyeol promises, wrapping his arms tighter around Kyungsoo. “I’ll fix it, I’ll fix it for you.” His voice wobbles. “I’ll build a hundred more homes for you if I need to. I’ll fix it, Kyungsoo.”  


* * *

  
Chanyeol leads Kyungsoo back inside. He takes them around the outside and back in through the front door, where he quickly grabs a change of clothes from his car. He steers them away from the solarium. Away from where the cake box still lays partially crumpled in the grass. Kyungsoo follows without protest, immediately burying his face in his hands as soon as Chanyeol guides them both to the couch before he quickly throws on his clothes. 

“I’m going to make us some tea,” Chanyeol murmurs, rubbing his hand along Kyungsoo’s neck in a comforting gesture. He waits until Kyungsoo nods before he leaves him alone on the couch to heat up the water. 

He misses Chanyeol’s warmth immediately. Kyungsoo takes several deep, calming breaths as he tries to ground himself in the safety of his home. They’re alone now. There’s no one else. They’re safe. He’s home.

It doesn’t erase the horror of having his solarium broken into—and _god_ he doesn’t know if he can handle discovering if they broke into any other areas of his home. He doesn’t think they have. Because Chanyeol would have known, he thinks. He could probably smell traces of them where they touch, as Yixing could, with their enhanced sense of smell. 

Kyungsoo bites down on his bottom lip, curling into himself. And that’s just another thing—Chanyeol is a _werewolf_. It explained why he seemed so strong, able to lift and maneuvre heavy objects with any trouble. Or why he was able to smell Kyungsoo’s baking during one of his first days working with him. 

Suddenly, Baekhyun’s little comments make so much more sense. His teasing jabs about Chanyeol’s _puppy eyes_ and _wagging tail_ were more literal than figurative. He had known that Chanyeol was part of Yixing’s pack and had assumed Kyungsoo did too, because it wouldn’t be something he would ever hide or lord over Kyungsoo’s head.

It doesn’t make him feel any less stupid, though. How could he have been so blind?

He hears a clink of porcelain against porcelain, and glances up. Chanyeol has an anxious furrow between his brows, his once-styled hair now falling messily across his forehead. In his hands are two mugs—the little cacti, and the treble clef. His heart pounds at the sight of Chanyeol, and he swallows noisily. 

“Thanks,” Kyungsoo croaks, reddening at the hoarse sound of his voice. He reaches out to take the mug from Chanyeol. His hands are shaking. Silently, Chanyeol places his own mug on the coffee table and grasps Kyungsoo’s hand, his touch gentle, delicate, and fits the mug in his palms. He doesn’t let go, instead stroking the soft skin of Kyungsoo’s hand with his own calloused fingers. His hand is warm. 

Chanyeol moves like Kyungsoo will shatter if he presses too hard, and Kyungsoo wants to protest against that; he wants to tell him that he’s not that fragile, that he’s not going to _break_. But Chanyeol—he’s looking at him like Kyungsoo’s the most precious person in the world and he can’t help but find some comfort in it.

“How are you doing?” Chanyeol asks, his voice soft and quiet. He sinks onto the couch next to Kyungsoo, letting go of his hand at last. 

Kyungsoo curls his palm around the mug, letting the heat from the tea soak into his skin. “I’m okay,” he says, equally as quiet. He avoids Chanyeol’s gaze. “Just— shocked I guess.”

Chanyeol shifts closer, his hand snaking around to hold Kyungsoo by his waist. The touch makes him jump, but then he relaxes. It’s just Chanyeol, sweet, perfect Chanyeol. He melts into his side.

“I’m sorry if I scared you back there. I know—I know we haven’t talked about our species. I’m sorry that I shifted like that,” Chanyeol says. 

It was scary, Kyungsoo realizes, but not because of Chanyeol. Not once did Chanyeol scare _him_. “I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he says. “I’m not— I’m not going to condone what _they_ did. And I didn’t want them to get hurt either. But I was more worried about _you_.”

Chanyeol sighs, the exhale ruffling Kyungsoo’s hair lightly. He squeezes lightly at Kyungsoo’s waist. “I shouldn’t have lost control like that. All I could think about was protecting _you_.”

“I can protect myself too,” says Kyungsoo. He leans his head onto Chanyeol’s shoulder, and feels the werewolf tighten his hold on Kyungsoo, tugging him closer to him. “But thank you.” The last words come out like a sigh. 

And it’s true. After all, Chanyeol wasn’t the only one who lost control earlier. He was just lucky enough that he didn’t slip into a berserk mode completely. He takes a sip of his tea, letting the earthy taste of the leaves roll through his palate.

Kyungsoo doesn’t know if Chanyeol knows he’s a zombie yet—but judging from how he still hasn’t gone running and screaming from him, he’s guessing not. Conflict squeezes his heart tight. He wonders if he should tell him. 

“I’m sorry we couldn’t go on our date tonight,” Chanyeol says after a pause. He sounds remorseful. Kyungsoo’s heart clenches. “I still want to treat you out, if you want to too.”

Kyungsoo swallows. He feels his eyes sting again, and he wills the tears to subside. Already, today has been the most he has cried since he could remember. “I’d love to,” he says, ducking his head. “But maybe another time.”

Chanyeol squeezes him again, hugging Kyungsoo close. “Of course.” He rests his chin on top of Kyungsoo’s head. Chanyeol smells like cologne. 

“Can we just...” Kyungsoo trails off, hesitating. It takes him a moment to realize he’s wrapped his arms around Chanyeol until Chanyeol shifts to lean back against the cushion, so that Kyungsoo could be positioned more comfortably. He draws up the courage. “Can we just sit like this, for a moment?”

“For as long as you’d like,” Chanyeol responds immediately. He sounds so heartfelt, it makes Kyungsoo’s heart lurch in his chest. He leans into Chanyeol’s warmth, grateful for his comforting presence.  


* * *

  
Kyungsoo doesn’t know how long they stay wrapped up together, sharing each other’s warmth. But as soon as he feels his eyes shutting on their own accord, he slowly untangles himself from Chanyeol. The werewolf watches him wordlessly. 

“I’m going to clean up a bit,” he whispers, twisting his fingers together. He peers at Chanyeol through his lashes. Kyungsoo can’t fall asleep with his contacts in—and it’s all too tempting, tucked into Chanyeol’s side like that.

“I’ll help,” Chanyeol offers immediately. “The solarium...”

Kyungsoo tries to pretend his heart doesn’t clench painfully at the reminder. “I don’t know if I can go in there,” he admits. He squeezes his fingers together, trying to stop their trembling. “Not today, at least.”

Chanyeol nods, meeting his eyes with a look of understanding. “I can start in there first,” Chanyeol says. Sadness is etched on his face, and it makes Kyungsoo’s heart twinge. “I’ll take care of it, Kyungsoo. Don’t worry, okay?”

Kyungsoo wants to protest, his fears of burdening Chanyeol creating a lump in his throat, but Chanyeol shakes his head. 

“Let me do this for you,” Chanyeol says, almost pleadingly. And Kyungsoo can’t refuse him. Not when Chanyeol seems so desperate to make things right, too. 

Chanyeol pulls him into tight hug before he leaves, quick enough that Kyungsoo barely has time to react before the werewolf steps back and down the hallway towards the back of the house. His chest aches as he watches Chanyeol walk away. 

With a sigh, he surveys the living room. There’s not much to clean, just the two abandoned mugs of tea that has now become lukewarm on the coffee table But it’s enough to distract him from his plants—to fight back the ache in his chest—so he grabs them to take to the sink. 

As he steps towards the sink, he catches sight of his reflection in the kitchen window and stops. His breath stutters on a gasp. With distant horror, he stares, transfixed, at himself in the window. Kyungsoo’s stomach suddenly feels like it’s falling out of him.

He looks horrible.

His eyes are bloodshot and rimmed with red, apparent even through the imperfect glare of the window. There’s a glassy, vacant look to his face. Noticeable tear tracks are streaked down his cheeks. He hadn’t noticed—but his tears had rubbed away at his foundation. His lips have been bitten, the lip tint now completely faded. The pallor he had tried so hard to hide is visible. The unnatural shade that demarcates him as abnormal, as a _zombie_ is unmistakable. 

_Did Chanyeol...notice?_ Kyungsoo tries to suck in a deep breath. _Did he see him like this?_

In the window, a dawning look of horror creeps over his face. It’s like all the air has left his lungs, and suddenly, Kyungsoo can’t breathe. His hands tremble, shaking with terror, and his fingers grow slack on their hold around the mugs. They fall to the ground, just barely missing his feet, and smash into pieces. He doesn’t react, his eyes transfixed on the horrifying image of his own reflection.

Suddenly, he can hear Chanyeol’s voice next to him. The werewolf must have sprinted toward the sound of the mugs breaking. He can see the taller man in the reflection too, and his eyes are wide with concern. He can see when Chanyeol wraps a hand around his arm, gently pulling him away from the window, guiding him away from the smushed ceramic on the ground. He’s saying something, and Kyungsoo knows he’s worried.

He stares at the hand around his arm. Distantly, he knows he should reassure Chanyeol. He should move, say something. He wants to hide his face—but he can’t. His hands have lost feeling in them and his feet feel rooted to the ground, a million times heavier than before. His brain feels sluggish. Numb. 

And then he can’t _breathe_. He tries to suck in a breath—and he can’t. Air won’t rush into his lungs. His chest hurts. It aches. He clutches one hand to his chest, his fingers clawing at the fabric of his scrubs, as he doubles over. His breathing becomes high-pitched, uneven. 

All he can think about is how Chanyeol has to know. He has to know he’s an Unnatural. And he must be disgusted—he must be _horrified_ that Kyungsoo is this _creature_. 

He knows Chanyeol is still talking to him. Chanyeol’s no longer touching him, but he can hear him directing him to breathe. Kyungsoo’s shaking, and he feels sweat beading down his face. His cheeks are slippery, with tears or sweat, he doesn’t know. 

Kyungsoo needs to _breathe_. 

Suddenly, Chanyeol’s voice filters back in. It’s soothing, reassuring. “Kyungsoo, you need to breathe,” he’s saying. “Everything will be okay. Breathe with me, okay? You can do this. Watch me, watch me.”

Kyungsoo shudders out a gasp. He tries to look at Chanyeol, but can barely see him through his tears. With shaking hands, he reaches out—he doesn’t know what, for sure, but he needs, _needs_ to feel something, to hold on—and Chanyeol grabs his hands gently. 

“You’re doing so well,” Chanyeol murmurs. “Concentrate on me. Breathe with me. Slowly.” Chanyeol breathes in, and out. They repeat. Somehow, Kyungsoo manages to grasp onto him, manages to try a few times until his breathing slowly gets better, gets easier. 

Chanyeol squeezes gently at his hands. “That’s it. Good job. You’re doing great. Breathe, breathe.” He pulls Kyungsoo slightly closer to him until Kyungsoo can rest on his broad chest. It helps, feeling Chanyeol breathe with him, and slowly, his breathing returns back to normal. His mind still feels scattered, but for now, he focuses on sucking in deep breaths.

“Kyungsoo, listen to me. You’re okay. I’m here. I’m here, okay? I’m here,” Chanyeol murmurs, stroking a gentle hand along Kyungsoo’s back. He rubs soothing circles, slow and measured like his breathing. “I’m here,” he whispers again.

Kyungsoo shudders, clinging to him. “You saw—” he gasps, and hiccups. “You saw—my face—”

For a moment, Chanyeol’s hand stills. For a split second, Kyungsoo _fears_ — but then Chanyeol holds him closer, his hands resuming their sweeping motions. “It’s okay,” he says again, in the same soothing tone. This time, however, there’s an undercurrent of urgency. “I knew, I _know_ —it doesn’t matter to me. I knew you were a zombie before I started, Kyungsoo, it doesn’t _matter_.” Kyungsoo freezes, shocked. “I like you, I like _you_ , it has never mattered, I promise.”

A myriad of emotions flash through Kyungsoo—disbelief, shock, _fear_. “What...?” he manages at last.

Chanyeol hugs him tighter. “I like you so much, Kyungsoo. I— I’m sorry to say this now, I know it’s possibly the worst timing in the world. I wanted to do it right.” He sounds remorseful. Kyungsoo can barely process it. “But I— I don’t want you to think that I wouldn’t like you because you’re a zombie. I know that and I don’t _care_ because it’s not a bad thing. You’re not a bad thing.”

“I—” Kyungsoo shakes his head, disbelieving. “I—how?”

Chanyeol tries to meet his gaze, but Kyungsoo keeps his eyes trained somewhere around Chanyeol’s face. “Yixing has talked about you before—when you first moved here.” Chanyeol explains, sounding regretful. “He probably doesn’t even remember.” 

It’s too much information at once; Kyungsoo’s mind struggles to take it all in. He shakes his head again. “You like me?” It—it feels like nothing makes sense. Like he’s taken a wrong turn somewhere and ended up in a surreal dreamscape where everything has been turned upside down. 

Chanyeol takes his shoulders, but Kyungsoo still doesn’t meet his eyes. “Kyungsoo,” the werewolf murmurs, before taking one hand to lift his chin. It’s almost unfamiliar, seeing Chanyeol’s face set so seriously. “Kyungsoo, I _like_ you. I like the way you get that fond look in your eyes when you talk about your plants. I like the way you always use your hand to taste your food, even when you have a spoon in the other. I like the way you always hum along to the songs we play, even when you don’t know them.” 

Kyungsoo’s breath stutters in his throat.

“I like the way you laugh when you tell stories about Baekhyun, or the way you talk about the farm back at home. I like how you always welcome me to your dinner table, even though you don’t have to. I like— I even like how you always wear those oversized hoodies that make you look so cute and tiny.” Chanyeol cups his face with his large hands, softly wiping away the wetness gathered on his cheeks. 

“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo says quietly. His hands are still trembling, and he shakily grips the hem of Chanyeol’s shirt. 

Chanyeol smiles, like Kyungsoo’s the most precious gem in the world. “I even like how you try not to laugh at the jokes I tell, but end up smiling anyway. You’re so kind, you’re _beautiful_ , and I would never, _ever_ —” Chanyeol shakes his head, looking upset. “I would never find you any less perfect because of your species. I like you. Being a zombie doesn’t change anything. You—zombie, Kyungsoo—are incredible. And so, _so_ lovable.”

It still feels all too much, all too overwhelming, and Kyungsoo shuts his eyes. He tips forward, leaning his forehead onto Chanyeol’s chest. He feels Chanyeol’s hands comb through his hair, sweeping it back. “You like me,” he says quietly. “You actually like me.”

“Yes,” says Chanyeol. “I like you a whole lot, Do Kyungsoo. Could even say that I’m in love.” His words sound almost playful, but his tone is earnest, almost raw. 

Kyungsoo’s heart thumps against his ribcage. Even though he knew all the time they have been spending together, the date they were planning for tonight, had to mean _something_ —deep inside, he always thought that his feelings for Chanyeol would be a race against time. That eventually, Chanyeol would realize that he’s an Unnatural, a _zombie_ and be repulsed. 

A part of him still feels that way. That somehow this is a fluke, even if Chanyeol somehow had known this whole time that he’s a zombie. The anxiety hasn’t entirely dissipated. Kyungsoo wonders if it ever well.

But still, Chanyeol’s hands are warm around him. His voice is soothing as he murmurs on about all the things he likes about Kyungsoo. It feels fake, somehow. But it also feels...

 _Good_. It feels right.

Kyungsoo takes Chanyeol’s hand and squeezes it. He looks up at the werewolf, and takes in the pure look of adoration that’s reflected on Chanyeol’s face. He wonders if he can believe him. Kyungsoo wants to— _god_ , he wants to more than anything. 

So he decides to try. Mustering up a wobbly smile, Kyungsoo shuts his eyes again. “I like you too,” he says quietly. His eyes flutter open, and to his surprise, Chanyeol looks almost teary-eyed. Like _he’s_ the one that can’t believe this could be happening. As if _he’s_ the lucky one. “You’ve been making my days brighter each day, Chanyeol. I like you.”

This time, when Chanyeol pulls Kyungsoo into a hug, Kyungsoo lets out a laugh, breathy and soft. His heart still hurts, still aches from the pain of losing his solarium to something so unfathomably hateful—but somehow, he feels okay too. 

Chanyeol hugs him tighter, and Kyungsoo never wants him to let go.  


* * *

  
“ _Yeah_ , take your shirt off!” He hears Baekhyun yell, before cheering loudly. Kyungsoo glances up from the pot he’s washing, and turns around to see Chanyeol already looking back at him.

Chanyeol pauses, the ladle in his hand stilling as he quirks his head towards the back of the house. “I— I think Yixing actually just took his shirt off?” He looks amused, albeit a little confused. 

“What,” Kyungsoo deadpans. “Should I be worried about the plants?” 

For a second, Chanyeol actually looks contemplated. Then, he scrunches up a face. “I think they’re kissing. Oh god, I can hear them kissing.” 

Kyungsoo sighs out a little laugh, before turning the tap back on to finish rinsing the pot. “Maybe it was a mistake to take up their offer on helping us rebuild the solarium.” 

He doesn’t mean it of course. It still hurts, a little, to walk into the solarium and see how much work there is still left to do. Miraculously, both Huchu and Meokmul survived. He had to repot them, but Kyungsoo’s just glad they were salvageable. But not all his plants were lucky.

When Baekhyun and Yixing had found out what happened, they were livid. They tried to convince Kyungsoo to file a police report, but he had shaken his head and refused. The police weren’t about to be helpful to an Unnatural—and besides, he doubted the two men would return after their encounter with a nearly-feral wolf. 

As his best friend, Baekhyun has been by his side all this time. He has seen Kyungsoo at his worst, desolate and lonely back in their hometown. Miserable once he moved to Seoul. He doesn’t know if there are enough words for him to ever express how grateful he is for Baekhyun’s steadfast presence—and his friend’s immediate offer to help with the solarium only solidifies that. 

Some of these thoughts must surface on Kyungsoo’s face, because Chanyeol stares at him with a tiny smile on his face. It’s a nice smile.

“What?” Kyungsoo says again. He’s blushing. He turns away from Chanyeol again, and finishes washing the pot, before placing it upside down in the other sink to dry.

Chanyeol just laughs and shakes his head. “Come here, try some of this soup and tell me if I should add anything to it.”

Kyungsoo sidles up next to Chanyeol and pokes him teasingly on the soft spot between the ribs. The werewolf yelps and then frowns, wrapping one large hand around Kyungsoo’s finger. It dwarfs it entirely, and Kyungsoo bites down on a pleased smile from the heated touch. 

Rather than pulling his finger free from Chanyeol’s grasp, he uses his left hand to push his glasses higher up on his nose bridge before picking up the spoon on the counter. Kyungsoo dips it into the soup. The chili pepper powder leaves the broth a stunning red, and the enticing aroma of the beef leaves his mouth watering. He takes a sip, flavour bursting on his tongue.

His eyes widen. “It’s really good!” he exclaims, and tries another sip. “It’s delicious, Chanyeol! I can’t believe it took you this long to cook for me.”

Chanyeol pouts, bumping his hip against Kyungsoo. He uses more strength than expected, and Kyungsoo wobbles before he manages to steady himself. Apologetically, Chanyeol strokes Kyungsoo’s finger with his thumb. 

“You never let me do anything but chop things before,” Chanyeol responds. “I’ve been trying to cook for you for ages.”

Kyungsoo shrugs, smiling playfully. “Like I said, how would I know you wouldn’t burn my _new_ kitchen down?” he teases. He closes his hand around Chanyeol’s thumb.

“I already said I would build you a new one,” Chanyeol whines. He changes his grip so that his fingers slip through Kyungsoo’s, holding his hand properly. 

His heart leaps to his throat. “That doesn’t sound practical,” he says, trying to ignore the thumping in his chest. 

“ _You_ don’t sound practical,” Chanyeol immediately retorts, but he sounds distracted. He’s staring at Kyungsoo, and it—it feels warm, delicate—his gaze—and Kyungsoo’s breath catches. The moment between them stills and thickens as Kyungsoo swallows around the sudden lump in his throat, unable to form words in light of Chanyeol’s stare.

Chanyeol squeezes his hand, and Kyungsoo’s heart flutters. “Your eyes are beautiful,” he whispers, apropos of nothing. 

Kyungsoo fights the desire to hide his face from Chanyeol. It’s the first time he hasn’t worn his contacts nor his makeup in front of Chanyeol, and he can’t help but feel self-conscious about his pale skin and white eyes. 

“They’re not,” he says automatically. It feels foreign to him, that anyone would like his Unnatural features. 

“They are,” Chanyeol refutes. “ _You_ are. Beautiful.” 

The sincerity in Chanyeol’s eyes warms his heart, causes it to skip a beat. Kyungsoo can’t help it, he drops his eyes to his feet, bashful. He smiles shyly, feels his ears heat up. “Shut up,” he says, looking back up at Chanyeol through his lashes. 

Chanyeol’s eyes rove over Kyungsoo’s face, and Kyungsoo wants to fall into the affection he sees there. He looks at Kyungsoo as if he’s something precious—and it makes him feel like he’s floating. The air around them feels heated, sparked with electricity. Suddenly, Chanyeol’s hand around his feels maddenly warm. His eyes wander down to Kyungsoo’s lips. The silence between them feels tense, but it’s not uncomfortable. 

Then, Chanyeol clears his throat, sounding dazed. He takes a step closer. “Kyungsoo,” he murmurs. His thumb strokes an invisible pattern over Kyungsoo’s hand. “Can I kiss you?”

Kyungsoo’s heart stills, before it starts beating wildly. _Don’t you find me gross?_ he almost wants to ask— _almost_ , by instinct—but the warm, delicate look on Chanyeol’s face says he finds him anything _but_. Like his love is precious, and that Kyungsoo, too, is worthy of being loved. And the realization that he _does_ like him, that Chanyeol truly feels _something_ for him—something that doesn’t feel delicate nor out of grasp, but visceral and concrete— _slams_ into Kyungsoo and throws him off his feet. It has his heart feeling like it has fallen out of his chest. And suddenly, he wants nothing more than to be kissed by Chanyeol, to kiss him as eagerly in return. 

“Okay,” Kyungsoo finally murmurs. He licks his lips, his hand trembling minutely. He feels as Chanyeol squeezes his hand in return. His nerves feel like they have been lit on fire.

Chanyeol searches for something on his face—maybe resolution, maybe confirmation. Kyungsoo isn’t sure what, but then Chanyeol eases back his shoulders. “Okay,” he says back, soft and simple.

They both lean in at the same time. Kyungsoo rises on his tiptoes, closes his eyes to the butterfly-fluttering in his stomach, as Chanyeol angles his face down to meet him. His heart pitter-patters against his chest when he feels Chanyeol’s warm breath against his mouth. 

Their first kiss together slow, gentle, delicate. Barely any pressure. Just two people, meeting in the middle. Chanyeol’s lips are warm and soft against his. It’s nothing more than a peck, but it means more than anything to Kyungsoo. 

They pull apart, just scant inches away, still sharing the same breath. Kyungsoo’s eyes flutter open. There’s a hot burn on his cheeks, even though they didn’t do much more than a peck. On Chanyeol’s cheeks is a matching blush. The werewolf is smiling, dimples visible.

“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo breathes. 

This time, he doesn’t know who kisses who first. “Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol whispers against his mouth, before capturing his lips again. It’s as slow as before, but passionate, filled with heat. His stomach flutters with excitement, with love, as he pours all his longing, his heart into the kiss. His hand detangles from Chanyeol’s, drawing a noise of disappointment from the taller man, before he wraps his arms around Chanyeol’s neck and draws him closer.

Chanyeol’s hands fall on Kyungsoo’s waist, squeezing him gently as he suckles on Kyungsoo’s bottom lip. 

_Oh_ , Kyungsoo thinks, as he feels Chanyeol’s fingers ghosting around his waist, his touch warm and pleasant. _Oh, this is love_. He smiles into the kiss. He feels Chanyeol tug him closer, smiles against Kyungsoo mouth. _This is what it’s like to be loved_.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!! I hope...I hope it was okay!
> 
> I also commissioned art from the incredible [@yennolenno](https://twitter.com/yennolenno) of little Soombie with SooSooDyo's Strawberry Dreams from the same fest! [Look at it](https://twitter.com/yennolenno/status/1248829671707271169)!!!! Please check the art and the artist out!


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